LIBRARY 

OF  TIII: 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


JAN  1895 


Accessions  No.ffiy6  ZL  . 


CLns  No. 


-77ru«- 


a  *$. 


COPYRIGHT,  1892,  BY 
RICHARD  HENRY  SAVAGE 

[All  rights  reserved. ,] 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Co. 
Astor  Place,  New  York 


INTRODUCTION. 

Forty-two  years  have  passed  since  California's  golden  star  first 
glittered  in  the  flag  of  the  United  States  of  America. 

Its  chequered  history  virtually  begins  with  the  rush  for  gold  in 
'48-49- 

Acquired  for  the  evident  purpose  of  extending  slave-holding  terri 
tory,  it  was  occupied  for  years  by  a  multitude  of  cosmopolitan 
"free  lances,"  who  swept  away  the  defenceless  Indians,  and 
brutally  robbed  the  great  native  families, , the  old  "  Dons." 

Society  slowly  made  headway  against  these  motley  adventurers. 

Mad  riot,  wildest  excess,  marked  these  earlier  days. 

High  above  the  meaner  knights  of  the  "revolver  and  bowie 
knife,"  greater  than  card  sharper,  fugitive  bravo,  or  sly  wanton, 
giant  schemers  appeared,  who  throw,  yet,  dark  shadows  over  the 
records  of  this  State. 

These  daring  conspirators  dominated  legislature  and  forum, 
public  office  and  society. 

They  spoiled  the  Mexican,  robbed  the  Indian,  and  paved  the  way 
for  a  "  Lone  Star  Republic/'  or  the  delivering  of  the  great  treasure 
fields  of  the  West  to  the  leaders  of  Secession. 

How  their  designs  on  this  grand  domain  failed  ;  what  might  have 
been,  had  the  South  been  more  active  in  its  hour  of  primary  victory 
and  seized  the  Golden  West,  these  pages  may  show. 

The  golden  days  of  the  "stars  and  bars"  were  lost  by  the 
activity  of  the  Unionists  and  the  mistaken  pol'icy  at  Richmond. 

The  utter  demoralization  of  California  by  the  "  bonanza  era  "  of 
silver  discovery,  the  rise  of  an  invincible  plutocracy,  and  the  second 
reign  of  loose  luxury  are  herein  set  forth. 

Scenes  never  equalled  in  shamelessness  have  disgraced  the  Halls  of 
State,  the  Courts,  and  the  mansions  of  the  suddenly  enriched. 

The  poor  have  been  trampled  by  these  tyrants  for  twenty 
years. 

Characters  unknown  in  the  social  history  of  any  other  land,  have 
been  evolved  from  this  golden  eddy  of  crime  and  adventure. 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

Not  till  all  these  men  and  women  of  incredibly  romantic  fortunes 
have  passed  away,  will  a  firm  social  structure  rise  over  their 
graves. 

Throttled  by  usurers,  torn  by  gigantic  bank  wars,  its  resources 
drained  by  colossal  swindles,  crouching  yet  under  the  iron  rule  of 
upstart  land-barons,  "dashing  journalism,"  and  stern  railroad  auto 
crats,  the  Calif ornian  community  has  gloomily  struggled  along. 

Newer  States  have  made  a  relative  progress  which  shames  Cali 
fornia.  Its  future  is  yet  uncertain. 

The  native  sons  and  daughters  of  the  golden  West  are  the  hope 
of  the  Pacific. 

The  homemakers  may  yet  win  the  victory. 

Some  of  the  remarkable  scenes  of  the  past  are  herein  portrayed 
by  one  who  has  seen  this  game  of  life  played  in  earnest,  the  shad 
owed  drama  of  California. 

There  is  no  attempt  to  refer  to  individuals,  save  as  members  of 
well-defined  classes,  in  these  pages.  This  book  has  absolutely  no 
political  bias. 

THE  AUTHOR. 

NEW  YORK  CITY,   May  15,  1892. 


CONTENTS. 

BOOK  I. 

THE    LAST    OF    THE    DONS    BY    THE    BLUE    PACIFIC. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  I. — Under  the  Mexican  Eagle. —  Exit 

the  Foreigner. — Monterey,  1840,  7 

«  II. — At  the  Presidio  of  San  Francisco. 
Wedding  Chimes  from  the  Mis 
sion  Dolores.  —  Lagunitas  Ran- 
cho,  -  28 

"  III. — A  Missing  Sentinel.  —  Fremont's 

Camp,  -  44 

«  IV.— Held  by  the  Enemy.— The  Bear 

Flag,  -  60 

BOOK  II. 

GOLD    FOR    ALL. — A    NEW    STAR    IN    THE    FLAG. 

CHAPTER  V. — The  Golden  Magnet.— Free  or  Slave  ?  80 
"  VI. — Lighting  Freedom's  Western  Lamp,  98 
«  VII.— The  Queen  of  the  El  Dorado.— 

Guilty  Bonds,  -  -  n8 

"  VIII.— Joaquin  the  Mountain  Robber.— 

The  Don's  Peril,  -  143 

"  IX.— The  Stranger's  Foot  at  Lagunitas. 

Valois'  Spanish  Bride,  -  i?2 

BOOK  III. 

GOING    HOME    TO    DIXIE. STARS    AND    STRIPES,  OR  STARS 

AND    BARS? 

CHAPTER    X. — A  Little  Dinner  at  Judge  Hardin's. 

The  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle,   197 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XI. — "  I'se  gwine  back  to  Dixie."— The 

Fortunes  of  War. — Val  Verde,  224 
"        XII.— Hood's    Day.— Peachtree    Creek. 
Valois'  Last  Trust.— De  Gress' 
Battery. — Dead  on  the  Field  of 
Honor,    -  -  247 


BOOK  IV. 

A  LOST  HEIRESS. MILLIONS    AT    STAKE. 

CHAPTER  XIII. — Mount  Davidson's  Magic  Millions. 
A  California  Plutocracy.  —  The 
Price  of  a  Crime,  -  -  277 

"  XIV. — A  Mariposa  Bonanza. — Natalie  de 
Santos  born  in  Paris. — The  Queen 
of  the  El  Dorado  joins  the  Gallic 
"  Four  Hundred/'  -  312 

«  •  XV. — An  Old  Priest  and  a  Young  Artist. 

The  Changelings,  -  -  332 

"  XVI.— Nearing  Each  Other.— The  Valois 

Heirs,  -  354 

"  XVII. — Weaving  Spiders. — A  Coward  Blow. 

— Marie  Berard's  Doom,  -  -  382 


BOOK  V. 

REAPING    THE    WHIRLWIND. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. — Joe  Woods  Surprises  a  Lady. 

Love's  Golden  Nets,  -  -  406 

"  XIX. — Lovers  Once,  Strangers  Now. 

Face  to  Face,  -  435 

"  XX. — Judge  Hardin  Meets  his  Match. 
A  Senatorial  Election.  —  In 
a  Mariposa  Court  Room. — 
The  Trust  fulfilled  at  Lagu- 
nitas, 456 


LAGUNITAS. 


BOOK    I. 


THE    LAST   OF  THE    DONS   BY  THE 
BLUE    PACIFIC. 


CHAPTER  I. 

UNDER     THE     MEXICAN     EAGLE. — EXIT     THE     FOR 
EIGNER. — MONTEREY,  1840. 

"  CARAMBA  !  Adios,  Seftores  !  "  cried  Captain 
Miguel  Peralta,  sitting  on  his  roan  charger  on  the 
Monterey  bluffs.  A  white-sailed  bark  is  heading 
southward  for  Acapulco.  His  vaqueros  tossed  up 
their  sombreros,  shouting,  "  Vive  Alvarado  !  Muerte 
los  estrangeros  !  " 

The  Pacific  binds  the  hills  of  California  in  a 
sapphire  zone,  unflecked  by  a  single  sail  in  sight, 
save  the  retreating  trader,  which  is  flitting  around 
"  Punta  de  los  Pinos." 

It  is  July,  1840.     The  Mexican  ensign  flutters  in 


8  LAGUNITAS. 

the  plaza  of  Monterey,  the  capital  of  Alta  Cali 
fornia. 

Miguel  Peralta  dismounts  and  crosses  himself, 
murmuring,  "  Sea  por  Dios  y  la  Santissima  Virgen." 

His  duty  is  done.  He  has  verified  the  departure 
of  the  Yankee  ship.  It  is  crowded  with  a  hundred 
aliens.  They  are  now  exiles. 

Gathered  in  by  General  Vallejo,  the  "  pernicious 
foreigners  "  have  been  held  at  Monterey,  until  a 
"  hide  drogher "  comes  into  the  port.  Alvarado 
permits  her  to  anchor  under  the  guns  of  the  hill 
battery.  He  then  seizes  the  ship  for  his  use. 

Captain  Peralta  is  given  the  honor  of  casting 
out  these  Ishmaels  of  fortune.  He  views  calmly 
their  exit.  It  is  a  land  which  welcomes  not  the 
"  Gringo."  The  ship-master  receives  a  draft  on 
Acapulco  for  his  impressed  service.  These  pio 
neer  argonauts  are  warned  (on  pain  of  death)  not 
to  return.  It  is  a  day  of  "fiesta"  in  Monterey. 
"Vive  Alvarado  !  "'is  the  toast. 

So,  when  Captain  Miguel  dashes  into  the  Plaza, 
surrounded  with  his  dare-devil  retainers,  reporting 
that  the  vessel  is  off  shore,  the  rejoicing  is  un 
bounded. 

Cannons  roar:  the  yells  of  the  green  jacket  and 
yellow  serape  brigade  rise  on  the  silent  reaches  of 
the  Punta  de  los  Pinos.  A  procession  winds  up  to 
the  Carmel  Mission.  Governor  Alvarado,  his  staff, 
the  leading  citizens,  the  highest  families,  and  the 
seftoritas  attend  a  mass  of  thanksgiving.  Attired 
in  light  muslins,  with  here  and  there  a  bright-col 
ored  shawl  giving  a  fleck  of  color,  and  silk  kerchiefs 
— fleecy — the  ladies'  only  other  ornaments  are  the 


LAGUNITAS.  9 

native  flowers  which  glitter  on  the  slopes  of  Mon 
terey  Bay.  Bevies  of  dark-eyed  girls  steal  glances 
at  Andres,  Ramon,  or  Jos£,  while  music  lends  a 
hallowing  charm  to  the  holy  father's  voice  as  he 
bends  before  the  decorated  altar.  Crowds  of  mis 
sion  Indians  fill  the  picturesque  church.  Every 
heart  is  proud.  Below  their  feet  sleeps  serenely 
good  Fray  "  Junipero  Serra."  He  blessed  this  spot 
in  1770; — a  man  of  peace,  he  hung  the  bells  on  the 
green  oaks  in  a  peaceful  wilderness.  High  in  air, 
to-day  they  joyously  peal  out  a  "  Laus  Deo."  When 
the  mystery  of  the  mass  rehearses  the  awful  sacri 
fice  of  Him  who  died  for  us  all,  a  silence  broods 
over  the  worshippers.  The  notes  of  the  choristers' 
voices  slowly  die  away.  The  population  leaves  the 
church  in  gay  disorder. 

The  Bells  of  the  Past  throw  their  spells  over  the 
mossy  church — at  once  triumph,  tomb,  and  monu 
ment  of  Padre  Junipero.  Scattered  over  the  coast 
of  California,  the  padres  now  sleep  in  the  Lethe 
of  death.  Fathers  Kino,  Salvatierra,  Ugarte,  and 
sainted  Serra  left  their  beautiful  works  of  mercy 
from  San  Diego  to  Sonoma.  With  their  compan 
ions,  neither  unknown  tribes,  lonely  coasts,  dangers 
by  land  and  sea,  the  burning  deserts  of  the  Colorado, 
nor  Indian  menaces,  prevented  the  linking  together 
of  these  outposts  of  peaceful  Christianity.  The 
chain  of  missions  across  New  Mexico  and  Texas 
and  the  Mexican  religious  houses  stretches  through 
bloody  Arizona.  A  golden  circlet ! 

Happy  California !  The  cross  here  preceded  the 
sword.  No  blood  stains  the  Easter  lilies  of  the  sac 
rifice.  The  Dons  and  Dofinas  greet  each  other  in 


IO  LAGUNITAS. 

stately  fashion,  as  the  gathering  disperses.  Gov 
ernor  Alvarado  gives  a  feast  to  the  notables.  The 
old  families  are  all  represented  at  the  board.  Picos, 
Peraltas,  Sanchez,  Pachecos,  Guerreros,  Estudillos, 
Vallejos,  Alvarados,  De  la  Guerras,  Castros,  Michel- 
torrenas,  the  descendants  of  "  Conquistadores,"  drink 
to  Mexico.  High  rises  the  jovial  chatter.  Good 
aguadiente  and  mission  wine  warm  the  hearts  of 
the  fiery  Californian  orators.  A  proud  day  for  Mon 
terey,  the  capital  of  a  future  Empire  of  Gold.  The 
stranger  is  cast  out.  Gay  caballeros  are  wending 
to  the  bear-baiting,  the  bull-fights,  the  "baile,"  and 
the  rural  feasts.  Splendid  riders  prance  along,  art 
fully  forcing  their  wild  steeds  into  bounds  and  cur 
vets  with  the  rowels  of  their  huge  silver-mounted 
spurs. 

Dark  lissome  girls  raise  their  velvety  eyes  and  ap 
plaud  this  daring  horsemanship.  Senoritas  Luisa, 
Isabel,  and  Panchita  lose  no  point  of  the  display. 
In  a  land  without  carriages  or  roads,  the  appear 
ance  of  the  cavalier,  his  mount,  his  trappings,  most 
do  make  the  man  shine  before  these  fair  slips  of 
Mexican  blue  blood. 

Down  on  the  beach,  the  boys  race  their  half- 
broken  broncos.  These  lads  are  as  lithe  and  lean 
as  the  ponies  they  bestride.  Across  the  bay,  the 
Sierras  of  Santa  Cruz  lift  their  virgin  crests  (plumed 
with  giant  redwoods)  to  the  brightest  skies  on  earth. 
Flashing  brooks  wander  to  the  sea  unvexed  by  mill, 
unbridged  in  Nature's  unviolated  freedom.  Far  to 
north  and  south  the  foot-hills  stand  shining  with 
their  golden  coats  of  wild  oats,  a  memorial  of  the 
seeds  cast  over  these  fruitful  mesas  by  Governor 


LAGUNITAS.  1 1 

Caspar  de  Portala.  He  left  San  Diego  Mission 
in  July,  1769,  with  sixty-five  retainers,  and  first 
reached  the  Golden  Gate. 

Beyond  the  Coast  Range  lies  a  "  terra  incognita." 
A  few  soldiers  only  have  traversed  the  Sacramento 
and  San  Joaquin.  They  wandered  into  the  vales  of 
Napa  and  Sonoma,  fancying  them  a  fairyland. 

The  sparkling  waters  of  the  American,  the  Sacra 
mento,  the  Yuba,  Feather,  and  Bear  rivers  are  danc 
ing  silently  over  rift  and  ripple.  There  precious 
nuggets  await  the  frenzied  seekers  for  wealth. 
There  are  no  gold-hunters  yet  in  the  gorges  of 
these  crystal  streams.  Down  in  Nature's  labora 
tory,  radiated  golden  veins  creep  along  between 
feathery  rifts  of  virgin  quarts.  They  are  the  treas 
ures  of  the  careless  gnomes. 

Not  till  years  later  will  Marshall  pick  up  the  first 
nugget  of  gleaming  gold  in  Sutter's  mill-race  at  Co- 
loma.  The  "auri  sacra  fames  "will  bring  thousands 
from  the  four  quarters  of  the  earth  to  sweep  away 
''the  last  of  the  Dons." 

A  lovely  land  to-day.  No  axe  rings  in  its  for 
ests.  No  steamboat  threads  the  rivers.  Not  an 
engine  is  harnessed  to  man's  use  in  this  silent,  lazy 
realm.  The  heart  of  the  Sierras  is  inviolate.  The 
word  "  Gold "  must  be  whispered  to  break  the 
charm. 

The  sun  climbs  to  noon,  then  slowly  sinks  to  the 
west.  It  dips  into  the  silent  sea,  mirroring  spark 
ling  evening  stars. 

Stretching  to  Japan,  the  Pacific  is  the  mysterious 
World's  End. 

Along   the   brown  coast,  the    sea    otter,   clad    in 


12  LAGUNITAS. 

kingly  robes,  sports  shyly  in  the  kelp  fields.  The 
fur  seals  stream  by  unchased  to  their  misty  home 
in  the  Pribyloffs.  Barking  sea-lions  clamber  around 
the  jutting  rocks.  Lazy  whales  roll  on  the  quiet 
waters  of  the  bay,  their  track  an  oily  wake. 

It  is  the  land  of  siesta,  of  undreamed  dreams,  of 
brooding  slumber. 

The  barbaric  diversions  of  the  day  are  done.  The 
firing  squad  leave  the  guns.  The  twang  of  guitar 
and  screech  of  violin  open  the  fandango. 

The  young  cavaliers  desert  the  streets.  Bibulous 
dignitaries  sit  in  council  around  Governor  Alva- 
rado's  table.  Mexican  cigars,  wine  in  old  silver 
flagons  (fashioned  by  the  deft  workers  of  Chihuahua 
and  Durango),  and  carafes  of  aguadiente,  garnish 
the  board. 

The  mahogany  table  (a  mark  of  official  grand 
eur),  transported  from  Acapulco,  is  occupied  (below 
the  salt)  by  the  young  officers.  Horse-racing,  cock- 
fighting,  and  gambling  on  the  combat  of  bear  and 
"bull,  have  not  exhausted  their  passions.  Public 
monte  and  faro  leave  them  a  few  "  doubloons" 
yet.  Seated  with  piles  of  Mexican  dollars  before 
them,  the  young  heroes  enjoy  a  "  lay-out."  All 
their  coin  comes  from  Mexico.  Hundreds  of  mil 
lions,  in  unminted  gold  and  silver,  lie  under  their 
careless  feet,  yet  their  "  pieces  of  eight "  date  back 
to  Robinson  Crusoe !  This  is  the  land  of  "  man- 
afta !  "  Had  Hernando  Cortez  not  found  the  treas 
ures  of  Mexico,  he  might  have  fought  his  way 
north,  over  the  Gila  Desert,  to  the  golden  hoards  of 
the  sprites  of  the  Sierras. 

At   the   banquet   fiery   Alvarado  counselled  with 


LAGUNITAS.  13 

General  Vallejo.  Flushed  with  victory,  Captain 
Miguel  was  the  lion  of  this  feast.  He  chatted  with 
his  compadres. 

The  seniors  talked  over  the  expulsion  of  the 
strangers. 

Cool  advisers  feared  trouble  from  France,  Eng 
land,  or  the  United  States.  Alvarado's  instinct 
told  him  that  foreigners  would  gain  a  mastery 
over  the  Dons,  if  permitted  to  enter  in  numbers. 
Texas  was  an  irresistible  warning.  "  Seftores,"  said 
Alvarado,  "  the  Russians  came  in  1812.  Only  a 
few,  with  their  Kodiak  Indians,  settled  at  Bodega. 
Look  at  them  now !  They  control  beautiful  Bo 
dega  !  They  are  800  souls  !  True,  they  say  they 
are  going,  but  only  our  posts  at  San  Rafael  and 
Sonoma  checked  them.  A  fear  of  your  sword, 
General !  "  Alvarado  drank  to  Vallejo. 

Vallejo  bowed  to  his  Governor.  "  Sefior,"  said 
he,  "  you  are  right.  I  have  seen  Mexico.  I  have 
been  a  scholar,  as  well  as  a  soldier.  I  knew  Von 
Resanoffs  Russian  slyness.  My  father  was  at  the 
Presidio  in  1807,  when  he  obtained  rights  for  a  few 
fur  hunters.  Poor  fellow !  he  never  lived  to  claim 
his  bride,  but  he  was  a  diplomat." 

"  Foreigners  will  finally  outroot  us.  Here  is 
Sutter,  building  his  fort  on  the  Sacramento  !  He's 
a  good  fellow,  yet  I'll  have  to  burn  New  Helvetia 
about  his  ears  some  day.  Russian  or  Swiss,  French 
or  Yankee,  it's  all  the  same.  The  '  Gringo  '  is  the 
worst  of  all.  Poor  Concepgion  de  Arguello.  She 
waited  long  for  her  dead  Russian  lover." 

"  General,  do  you  think  the  Yankees  can  ever 
attack  us  by  land  ?"  said  Alvarado. 


14  LAGUNITAS. 

"  Madre  de  Dios!  No  !  "  cried  Vallejo,  "  we  will 
drag  them  at  our  horses'  tails ! ''' 

"Then,  I  have  no  fear  of  them,"  said  Alvarado. 
"  We  occupy  San  Diego,  Santa  Barbara,  Monterey, 
and  San  Francisco,  the  missions  of  San  Juan  Capis- 
trano,  Los  Angeles,  San  Luis  Obispo  and  Santa 
Clara,  and  help  to  control  the  Indians,  but  these 
home  troubles  have  stopped  their  useful  growth." 

Governor  Alvarado  sighed.  Governor  Hijar  in 
1834  had  desecularized  the  Catholic  missions.  Their 
cattle  were  stolen,  their  harvests  and  vineyards  de 
stroyed.  The  converts  were  driven  off  to  seek  new 
homes  among  the  Utes,  Yubas,  Feather  River,  Napa, 
and  Mohave  tribes. 

Pious  Alvarado  crossed  himself.  He  glanced 
uneasily  at  Padre  Castillo, — at  the  board.  Only 
one  or  two  priests  were  left  at  the  beautiful  settle 
ments  clustering  around  the  old  mission  churches. 
To-day  these  are  the  only  architectural  ornaments 
of  Alta  California. 

"  I  doubt  the  wisdom  of  breaking  up  the  mis 
sions,"  said  Alvarado,  with  gloomy  brow.  A  skele 
ton  was  at  this  feast.  The  troubled  Governor 
could  not  see  the  handwriting  on  the  wall.  He 
felt  California  was  a  priceless  jewel  to  Mexico. 
He  feared  imprudent  measures.  Lying  dormant, 
California  slept  since  Cabrillo  saw  Cape  Mendocino 
in  1542.  After  he  turned  his  shattered  prows  back 
to  Acapulco  on  June  27,  1543,  it  was  only  on  No 
vember  10,  1602,  that  ambitious  Viscaino  raised  the 
Spanish  ensign  at  San  Diego.  He  boldly  claimed 
this  golden  land  for  Spain.  Since  that  furtive  visit, 
the  lonely  coast  lay  unsettled.  It  was  only  used 


LAGUNITAS.  1 5 

as  a  haunt  by  wild  pirates,  lurking  to  attack  the 
precious  Philippine  galleons  sailing  to  Acapulco. 
For  one  hundred  and  sixty-eight  years  the  land 
was  unvisited.  Spanish  greed  and  iron  rule  satis 
fied  itself  with  grinding  the  Mexicans  and  turning 
southward  in  the  steps  of  Balboa  and  Pizarro. 

Viscaino's  neglected  maps  rotted  in  Madrid  for 
two  centuries.  Fifty-five  years  of  Spanish  rule  left 
California  undeveloped,  save  by  the  gentle  padres 
who,  aided  by  their  escort,  brought  in  the  domestic 
animals.  They  planted  fruit-trees,  grains,  and  the 
grape.  They  taught  the  peaceful  Indians  agricul 
ture.  Flax,  hemp,  and  cotton  supplanted  the  skins 
of  animals. 

Alvarado  and  Vallejo  remembered  the  Spanish 
war  in  1822.  At  this  banquet  of  victory,  neither 
thought  that,  a  few  years  later,  the  rule  of  the  Dons 
would  be  over ;  that  their  familiar  places  would 
know  them  no  more.  Just  retribution  of  fate  ! 
The  Dons  drove  out  the  friars,  and  recked  not  their 
own  day  was  close  at  hand. 

As  the  exultant  victors  stood  drinking  the  toast 
of  the  day,  "  Muerte  los  estrange"ros,"  neither  crafty 
statesman,  sly  priest,  fiery  general,  wise  old  Don, 
nor  reckless  caballero,  could  predict  that  the 
foreigners  would  return  in  two  years.  That  they 
would  come  under  protection  of  the  conquering 
British  flag. 

Alvarado  was  excited  by  his  feuds  with  Michel- 
torrena.  The  people  were  divided  into  clericals 
and  anti-clericals.  A  time  of  "  storm  and  stress  " 
hung  over  all. 

Wise  in  victory  was  Captain  Miguel  Peralta.     His 


l6  LAGUNITAS. 

campaign  against  the  foreigners  marked  the  close  of 
his  service.  Born  in  1798,  his  family  were  lords 
of  broad  lands  on  the  Alamedas  of  San  Fran 
cisco  Bay.  He  was  sent  to  the  city  of  Mexico  and 
educated,  serving  in  the  army  of  the  young  repub 
lic.  Returning  to  Alt  a  California,  he  became  a 
soldier. 

Often  had  he  sallied  out  to  drive  the  warlike 
Indian  toward  the  Sacramento.  In  watching  his 
mustangs  and  cattle,  he  rode  far  to  the  slopes  of 
the  Sierra  Nevadas.  Their  summits  glittered  under 
the  blue  skies,  crowned  with  silvery  snows,  unpro- 
faned  by  the  foot  of  man. 

A  sturdy  caballero,  courtly  and  sagacious.  His 
forty-two  years  admonished  him  now  to  settle  in 
life.  When  Alvarado  was  in  cheeriest  mood,  at 
the  feast,  the  Captain  reminded  him  of  his  promise 
to  release  him.  This  would  allow  Peralta  to  locate 
a  new  ten-league-square  grant  of  lands,  given  him 
for  past  services  to  the  State. 

Graciously  the  Governor  accorded  the  request. 
Noblesse  oblige !  "  Don  Miguel,  is  there  any  reason 
for  leaving  us  besides  your  new  rancho  ?"  said  Al 
varado.  The  Captain's  cheek  reddened  a  little. 
"  Seftor  Gobernador,  I  have  served  the  State  long," 
said  he.  "  Juanita  Castro  waits  for  me  at  San 
Francisco.  I  will  lay  off  my  rancho  on  the  San 
Joaquin.  I  move  there  in  the  spring." 

Alvarado  was  delighted.  The  health  of  Seftorita 
Juanita  Castro  was  honored  by  the  whole  table. 
They  drank  an  extra  bumper  for  gallant  Don 
Miguel,  the  bridegroom. 

The    Governor    was    pleased.     Powerful    Castros 


LAGUNITAS.  I/ 

and  Peraltas  stretched  from  the  Salinas,  by  San 
Jose"  and  Santa  Clara,  to  Martinez ;  and  San  Rafael 
as  well  as  Sonoma.  By  this  clan,  both  Slitter's 
Fort  and  the  Russians  could  be  watched. 

This  suitable  marriage  would  bring  a  thousand 
daring  horsemen  to  serve  under  the  cool  leadership 
of  Don  Miguel  in  case  of  war. 

Peralta  told  the  Governor  he  would  explore  the 
San  Joaquin.  He  wished  to  locate  his  ranch  where 
he  could  have  timber,  wood,  water,  game,  and  moun 
tain  air. 

Don  Miguel  did  not  inform  the  chief  of  the  state 
that  in  riding  from  San  Diego  to  Cape  Mendocino 
he  had  found  one  particular  garden  of  Paradise. 
He  had  marked  this  for  his  home  when  his  sword 
would  be  sheathed  in  honor. 

"  I  will  say,  your  Excellency,"  said  the  Captain, 
"  I  fear  for  the  future.  The  Yankees  are  growing 
in  power  and  are  grasping.  They  have  robbed  us 
of  lovely  Texas.  Now,  it  is  still  a  long  way  for 
their  ships  to  come  around  dreary  Cape  Horn.  We 
had  till  late  years  only  two  vessels  from  Boston  ;  I 
saw  their  sails  shining  in  the  bay  of  San  Fran 
cisco  when  I  was  five  years  old.  I  have  looked 
in  the  Presidio  records  for  the  names.  The 
Alexander  and  the  Aser,  August  1st,  1803.  Then, 
they  begged  only  for  wood  and  water  and  a 
little  provision.  Now,  their  hide-traders  swarm 
along  our  coast.  They  will  by  and  by  come  with 
their  huge  war-ships.  These  trading-boats  have 
no  cannon,  but  they  are  full  of  bad  rum.  Our 
coast  people  will  be  cleared  out.  Why,  Catalina 
Islands,"  continued  the  Captain,  "  were  peopled  once 


1 8  LAGUNITAS. 

densely.  There  are  yet  old  native  temples  there. 
All  these  coast  tribes  have  perished.  It  is  even 
worse  since  the  holy  fathers  were  robbed  of  their 
possessions." 

The  good  soldier  crossed  himself  in  memory  of 
the  wise  padres.  They  owned  the  thousands  of 
cattle,  sheep,  and  horses  once  thronging  the  oat- 
covered  hills.  Theirs  were  the  fruits,  grains,  and 
comforts  of  these  smiling  valleys,  untrodden  yet  by 
a  foreign  foe. 

"  Your  Excellency,  when  the  Yankee  war-ships 
have  come,  we  cannot  resist  them.  Our  batteries 
are  old  and  poor,  we  have  little  ammunition.  Our 
arms  are  out  of  repair.  The  machete  and  lasso  are 
no  match  for  their  well-supplied  men-of-war.  I 
shall  locate  myself  so  far  in  the  interior  that  the 
accursed  Gringos  cannot  reach  me  with  their  ships 
or  their  boats.  The  trappers  who  straggle  over  the 
deserts  from  Texas  our  horsemen  will  lasso.  They 
will  bring  them  in  bound  as  prisoners." 

"  Miguel,  mi  compadre,"  said  the  Governor,  "  do 
you  think  they  can  cross  the  deserts?"  He  was 
startled  by  Peralta's  views  of  the  future. 

"  Seflor,"  said  the  Captain,  "  I  saw  the  first  Ameri 
can  who  came  overland.  The  wanderer  appeared 
in  1826.  It  was  the  2Oth  of  December.  He  was 
found  half  starved  by  our  vaqueros.  I  have  his 
name  here  on  a  piece  of  paper.  I  have  long  car 
ried  it,  for  I  was  a  guard  over  him." 

Miguel  slowly  spelled  off  the  detested  Yankee 
name,  Jedediah  S.  Smith,  from  a  slip  of  cartridge 
paper  in  his  bolsa.  Glory  be  to  the  name  of 
Smith! 


LAGUNITAS.  19 

"  Where  that  one  Yankee  found  a  way,  more  will 
come,  but  we  will  meet  and  fight  them.  This  is  our 
own  land  by  the  right  of  discovery.  The  good  King 
Philip  II.  of  Spain  rightfully  claimed  this  (from 
his  orders  to  Viceroy  Monterey  in  1596).  We  get 
our  town  name  here  in  his  honor.  We  will  fight 
the  English,  and  these  accursed  Yankees.  They 
have  no  right  to  be  here.  This  is  our  home,"  cried 
fiery  Miguel,  as  he  pledged  the  hospitable  Governor. 
He  passed  out  into  the  dreaming,  starry  night.  As 
he  listened  to  the  waves  softly  breaking  on  the 
sandy  beach,  he  thought  fondly  of  Juanita  Castro. 
He  fumbled  over  the  countersign  as  the  sentinel 
presented  his  old  flint-lock  musket. 

Both  Governor  and  Captain  sought  the  repose  of 
their  Spartan  pillows.  The  Captain  forgot,  in  his 
zeal  for  Spanish  dominion,  that  daring  Sir  Francis 
Drake,  in  days  even  then  out  of  the  memory  of  man, 
piloted  the  "  Golden  Hind  "  into  Drake's  Bay.  He 
landed  near  San  Francisco  in  1578,  and  remained 
till  the  early  months  of  1 579.  Under  the  warrant  of 
"good  Queen  Bess"  he  landed,  and  set  up  a  pillar 
bearing  a  "  fair  metal  plate  "  with  a  picture  of  that 
antiquated  but  regal  coquette.  He  nailed  on  the 
pillar  a  "fair  struck  silver  five-pence, "-saluting  the 
same  with  discharge  of  culverins,  much  hearty 
English  cheer  and  nautical  jollity.  The  land  was 
English — by  proscription. 

Sir  Francis,  gallant  and  courtly,  was,  like  many 
travellers,  as  skilful  at  drawing  the  long  bow  as  in 
wielding  the  rapier.  He  was  not  believed  at  home. 

Notwithstanding,  he  tarried  months  and  visited 
the  inland  Indians,  bringing  home  many  objects  of 


2O  LAGUNITAS. 

interest,  announcing  "  much  gold  and  silver,"  his 
voyage  was  vain.  His  real  discovery  was  deemed 
of  no  practical  value.  The  robust  Indians  swarmed 
in  thousands,  living  by  the  watersides  in  huts, 
wearing  deerskin  cloaks  and  garments  of  rushes. 
Hunters  and  fishers  were  they.  They  entertained 
the  freebooter,  and  like  him  have  long  since  mould 
ered  to  ashes.  Along  the  Pacific  Coast  great 
mounds  of  shells,  marking  their  tribal  seaside  feasts, 
are  now  frequently  unearthed.  Their  humble  his 
tory  is  shadowed  by  the  passing  centuries.  They 
are  only  a  memory,  a  shadow  on  Time's  stream. 
Good  Queen  Bess  sleeps  in  the  stately  fane  of 
Westminster.  Sir  Francis's  sword  is  rusted.  The 
"  brazen  plate  "  recording  that  date  and  year  is  of 
a  legendary  existence  only.  "  Drake's  Bay  "  alone 
keeps  green  the  memory  of  the  daring  cruiser. 
Even  in  one  century  the  Spanish,  Russian,  Mexican, 
and  American  flags  successively  floated  over  the 
unfrequented  cliffs  of  California.  Two  hundred 
years  before,  the  English  ensign  kissed  the  air  in 
pride,  unchallenged  by  the  haughty  Spaniard. 

Miguel  Peralta  was  happy.  He  had  invited  all  the 
officials  to  attend  the  nuptials  by  the  Golden  Gate. 
Venus  was  in  the  ascendant.  The  red  planet  of 
Mars  had  set,  he  hoped,  forever.  The  officers  and 
gentry  contemplated  a  frolicsome  ride  around  the 
Salinas  bend,  over  the  beautiful  passes  to  Santa 
Clara  valley  and  the  town  of  Yerba  Buena. 

Peralta's  marriage  was  an  excuse  for  general  love 
making.  A  display  of  all  the  bravery  of  attire  and 
personal  graces  of  man  and  maid  was  in  order. 

The    soldier    drifted    into    the    land    of    dreams 


LAGUNITAS.  21 

haunted  by  Juanita  Castro's  love-lit  eyes  and  rare, 
shy  smile.  No  vision  disturbed  him  of  the  foot 
hold  gained  in  Oregon  by  the  Yankees.  They 
sailed  past  the  entrance  of  San  Francisco  Bay,  on 
the  Columbia,  in  1797,  but  they  found  the  great 
river  of  the  northwest.  They  named  it  after  their 
gallant  bark,  said  to  be  the  legal  property  of  one 
General  Washington  of  America. 

The  echoes  of  Revolutionary  cannon  hardly  died 
away  before  the  eagle-guided  Republic  began  to 
follow  the  star  of  empire  to  the  Occident. 

Had  the  listless  manners  seen  that  obscured  inlet 
of  the  Golden  Gate,  they  had  never  braved  the  icy 
gales  of  the  Oregon  coast.  Miguel  Peralta's  broad 
acres  might  have  had  another  lord.  Bishop  Berke 
ley's  prophecy  was  infallible.  A  fatal  remissness 
seemed  to  characterize  all  early  foreign  adventure 
on  Californian  coasts. 

Admiral  Vancouver  in  1793  visited  Monterey  har 
bor,  and  failed  to  raise  the  Union  Jack,  as  supinely 
as  the  later  British  commanders  in  1846.  French 
commanders,  technically  skilful  and  energetic,  also 
ignored  the  value  of  the  western  coast.  As  a  result 
of  occasional  maritime  visits,  the  slender  knowledge 
gained  by  these  great  navigators  appears  a  remark 
able  omission. 

The  night  passed  on.  Breezes  sweeping  through 
the  pines  of  Monterey  brought  no  murmur  from 
the  south  and  east  of  the  thunder  crash  of  cannon 
on  the  unfought  fields  of  Mexico. 

No  drowsy  vaquero  sentinel,  watching  the  out 
posts  of  Monterey,  could  catch  a  sound  of  the 
rumbling  wheels  and  tramping  feet  of  that  vast 


22  LAGUNITAS. 

western  immigration  soon  to  tread  wearily  the  old 
overland  and  the  great  southern  route. 

The  soldier,  nodding  over  his  flint-lock  as  the 
white  stars  dropped  into  the  western  blue,  saw  no 
glitter  of  the  sails  of  hostile  Yankee  frigates.  Soon 
they  would  toss  in  pride  at  anchor  here,  and  salute 
the  starry  flag  of  a  new  sovereignty.  The  little 
twinkling  star  to  be  added  for  California  was  yet 
veiled  behind  the  blue  field  of  our  country's  banner. 

Bright  sun  flashes  dancing  over  the  hills  awoke 
the  drowsy  sacristan.  The  hallowed  "  Bells  of 
Carmel "  called  the  faithful  to  mass. 

Monterey,  in  reverse  order  of  its  social  grades, 
rose  yawning  from  the  feast.  Fandangos  and  bailes 
of  the  day  of  victory  tired  all.  Lazy  "  mozos " 
lolled  about  the  streets.  A  few  revellers  idly  com 
pared  notes  of  the  day's  doings. 

In  front  of  the  government  offices,  squads  of 
agile  horses  awaited  haughty  riders.  A  merry  cav 
alcade  watched  for  Captain  Miguel  Peralta.  He 
was  to  be  escorted  out  of  the  Pueblo  by  the  "  jeu- 
nesse  dore"e  "  of  Alta  California. 

Clad  in  green  jackets  buttoned  with  Mexican 
dollars,  riding  leggings  of  tiger-cat  skin  seamed 
with  bullion  and  fringed  with  dollars,  their  brown 
faces  were  surmounted  by  rich  sombreros,  huge  of 
rim.  They  were  decorated  in  knightly  fashion 
with  silver  lace.  The  young  caballeros  awaited 
their  preux  chevalier.  Saddle  and  bridle  shone 
with  heavy  silver  mountings.  Embossed  housings 
and  "tapadero,"  hid  the  symmetry  of  their  deer- 
like  coursers. 

Pliant   rawhide    lassos   coiled    on    saddle   horns, 


LAGUNITAS.  23 

gay  scrapes  tied  behind  each  rider,  and  vicious 
machetes  girded  on  thigh,  these  sons  of  the  West 
were  the  pride  of  the  Pacific. 

Not  one  of  them  would  be  dismayed  at  a  seven 
days'  ride  to  Los  Angeles.  A  day's  jaunt  to  a  fan 
dango,  a  night  spent  in  dancing,  a  gallop  home 
on  the  morrow,  was  child's  play  to  these  young 
Scythians. 

Pleasure-loving,  brave,  and  courteous ;  hospita 
ble,  and  fond  of  their  lovely  land — they  bore  all 
fatigue  in  the  saddle,  yet  despised  any  manual 
exertion  ;  patricians  all,  in  blood. 

So  it  has  been  since  man  conquered  the  noblest 
inferior  animal.  The  man  on  the  horse  always  rides 
down  and  tramples  his  brother  on  foot.  Life  is 
simply  a  struggle  for  the  saddle,  and  a  choice  of  the 
rarest  mount  in  the  race.  To-day  these  gay  riders 
are  shadows  of  a  forgotten  past. 

Before  noon  Captain  Peralta  receives  the  order 
of  the  Governor.  It  authorizes  him  to  locate  his 
military  grant.  General  Vallejo,  with  regret,  hands 
Miguel  an  order  relieving  him  from  duty.  He  is 
named  Commandante  of  the  San  Joaquin  valley, 
under  the  slopes  of  the  undefiled  Sierras. 

Laden  with  messages,  despatches,  and  precious 
letters  for  the  ranches  on  the  road  to  the  Golden 
Gate,  he  departs.  These  are  entrusted  to  the 
veteran  sergeant,  major-domo  and  shadow  of  his 
beloved  master.  Miguel  bounds  into  the  saddle. 
He  gayly  salutes  the  Governor  and  General  with  a 
graceful  sweep  of  his  sombrero.  He  threads  the 
crowded  plaza  with  adroitness,  swaying  easily  from 
side  to  side  as  he  greets  sober  friend  or  demure 


24  LAGUNITAS. 

Donna.  He  smiles  kindly  on  all  the  tender-eyed 
seftoritas  who  admire  the  brave  soldier,  and  in 
their  heart  of  hearts  envy  Juanita  Castro,  the  Rose 
of  Alameda. 

Alert  and  courteous,  the  future  bright  before 
him,  Peralta  gazes  on  the  Mexican  flag  fluttering 
in  the  breeze.  A  lump  rises  in  his  throat.  His 
long  service  is  over  at  last.  He  doffs  his  sombrero 
when  the  guard  "  turns  out  "  for  him.  It  is  the  last 
honor. 

He  cannot  foresee  that  a  French  frigate  will  soon 
lie  in  the  very  bay  smiling  at  his  feet,  and  cover 
the  returning  foreigner  with  her  batteries. 

In  two  short  years,  sturdy  old  Commodore  Jones 
will  blunder  along  with  the  American  liners,  Cyane 
and  United  States,  and  haul  down  that  proud 
Mexican  ensign.  He  will  hoist  for  the  first  time, 
on  October,  19,  1842,  the  stars  and  stripes  over  the 
town.  Even  though  he  apologizes,  the  foreigners 
will  troop  back  there  like  wolves  around  the  dying 
bison  of  the  west.  The  pines  on  Santa  Cruz  whis 
per  of  a  coming  day  of  change.  The  daybreak  of 
the  age  of  gold  draws  near. 

Steadily  through  the  live-oaks  and  fragrant 
cypress  the  bridegroom  rides  to  the  wedding.  A 
few  days'  social  rejoicings,  then  away  to  the  beauti 
ful  forests  of  his  new  ranch.  It  lies  far  in  the  hills 
of  Mariposa.  There,  fair  as  a  garden  of  the  Lord, 
the  grassy  knolls  of  the  foothills  melt  into  the 
golden  wild-oat  fields  of  the  San  Joaquin. 

Behind  him,  to  the  east,  the  virgin  forest  rises  to 
the  serrated  peaks  of  the  Nevada.  He  drops  his 
bridle  on  his  horse's  neck.  He  dreams  of  a  day 


LAGUNITAS.  25 

when  he  can  visit  the  unknown  canons  beyond  his 
new  home. 

Several  Utc  chiefs  have  described  giant  forests 
of  big  trees.  They  tell  of  a  great  gorge  of  awful 
majesty ;  that  far  toward  the  headwaters  of  the 
American  are  sparkling  lakes  fed  by  winter  snows. 

His  escort  of  young  bloods  rides  behind  him. 
They  have  had  their  morning  gymnastics,  "  a  che- 
val,"  to  edify  the  laughing  beauties  of  the  baile 
of  last  night.  The  imprisoned  rooster,  buried  to 
the  neck  in  soft  earth,  has  been  charged  on  and 
captured  gaily.  Races  whiled  away  their  waiting 
moments. 

Then,  "  adios,  seftoritas,"  with  heart-pangs  in  cho 
rus.  After  a  toss  of  aguardiente,  the  cigarito  is  lit. 
The  beaux  ride  out  for  a  glimpse  of  the  white 
cliffs  of  the  Golden  Gate.  The  sleeping  Monterey 
belles  dream  yet  of  yester-even.  Nature  smiles,  a 
fearless  virgin,  with  open  arms.  Each  rancho  offers 
hospitality.  Money  payments  are  unknown  here 
yet,  in  such  matters. 

Down  the  Santa  Clara  avenue  of  great  willows 
these  friends  ride  in  the  hush  of  a  starry  evening. 
As  the  mission  shows  its  lights,  musical  bells  pro 
claim  the  vesper  service.  Their  soft  echoes  are 
wafted  to  the  ears  of  these  devotees. 

Devoutly  the  caballeros  dismount.  They  kneel 
on  the  tiled  floor  till  the  evening  service  ends. 

Miguel's  heart  sinks  while  he  thinks  of  the  mis 
sions.  He  bows  in  prayer.  Neglected  vineyards 
and  general  decay  reign  over  the  deserted  mission 
lands. 

It    is  years    since  Hijar  scattered    the   missions. 


26  LAGUNITAS. 

He  paralyzed  the  work  of  the  Padres.  Already 
Santa  Clara's  gardens  are  wasted.  Snarling  coyotes 
prowl  to  the  very  walls  of  the  enclosures  left  to 
the  Padres. 

Priest  and  acolytes  quit  the  altar.  Miguel  sadly 
leaves  the  church.  Over  a  white  stone  on  the  sward 
his  foot  pauses.  There  rests  one  of  his  best  friends 
—Padre  Pacheco — passed  beyond  these  earthly  trou 
bles  to  eternal  rest  and  peace.  The  mandate  of 
persecution  can  never  drive  away  that  dead  shep 
herd.  He  rests  with  his  flock  around  him. 

Hijar  seized  upon  the  acres  of  the  Church.  He 
came  down  like  the  feudal  barons  in  England. 
Ghostly  memories  cling  yet  around  these  old  mis 
sions. 

"  When  the  lord  of  the  hill,  Amundeville, 

Made  Norman  church  his  prey, 
And  expelled  the  friars,  one  friar  still 
Would  not  be  driven  away."     , 

So  here  the  sacred  glebe  was  held  by  a  faithful 
sentinel.  His  gravestone  flashed  a  white  protest 
against  violence.  In  the  struggle  between  sword 
and  cowl,  the  first  victory  is  with  the  sword;  not 
always  the  last.  Time  has  its  revenges. 

Padre  Hinojosa,  the  incumbent,  welcomes  the 
Captain.  There  is  cheer  for  the  travellers.  Well- 
crusted  bottles  of  mission  claret  await  them.  The 
tired  riders  seek  the  early  repose  of  primitive  com 
munities. 

Beside  the  fire  (for  the  fog  sweeps  coldly  over 
the  Coast  Range)  the  priest  and  his  guest  exchange 
confidences.  Captain  Peralta  is  an  official  bulletin. 
The  other  priest  is  summoned  away  to  a  dying  pen- 


LAGUNITAS.  27 

itent.  The  halls  of  the  once  crowded  residence  of 
the  clergy  reecho  strangely  the  footsteps  of  the  few 
servants. 

By  the  embers  the  man  of  the  sword  and  he  of 
the  gown  lament  these  days.  They  are  pregnant 
with  trouble.  The  directing  influence  of  the  Padres 
is  now  absent.  Peralta  confides  to  Hinojosa  that 
jealousy  and  intrigue  will  soon  breed  civil  warfare. 
Micheltorrena  is  now  conspiring  against  Alvarado. 
Peralta  seeks  a  secluded  home  in  the  forests  of 
Mariposa.  He  desires  to  gain  a  stronghold  where 
he  can  elude  both  domestic  and  foreign  foes. 

"  Don  Miguel,"  the  padre  begins,  "  in  our  rec 
ords  we  have  notes  of  a  Philippine  galleon,  the  San 
Augustin,  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the  East.  She 
was  washed  ashore  in  1579,  tempest  tossed  at  the 
Golden  Gate.  Viscaino  found  this  wreck  in  1602. 
Now  I  have  studied  much.  I  feel  that  the  Ameri 
cans  will  gradually  work  west,  overland,  and  will 
rule  us.  Our  brothers  destroyed  the  missions. 
They  would  have  Christianized  the  patient  Indians, 
teaching  them  industries.  Books  tell  me  even  the 
Apaches  were  peaceful  till  the  Spanish  soldiers 
attacked  them.  Now  from  their  hills  they  defy  the 
whole  Mexican  army."  The  good  priest  sighed. 
"  Our  work  is  ruined.  I  shall  lay  my  bones 
here,  but  I  see  the  trade  of  the  East  following 
that  lonely  wrecked  galleon,  and  a  young  people 
growing  up.  The  Dons  will  go."  Bestowing  a 
blessing  on  his  guest,  the  padre  sought  his  breviary. 
Priest  and  soldier  slept  in  quiet.  To-day  the  old 
padre's  vision  is  realized.  The  treasures  of  the 
East  pour  into  the  Golden  Gate.  His  simple  heart 


28  LAGUNITAS. 

would  have  been  happy  to  know  that  thousands  of 
Catholics  pause  reverently  at  his  tomb  covered  with 
the  roses  of  Santa  Clara. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AT  THE  PRESIDIO  OF  SAN  FRANCISCO. — WEDDING 
CHIMES  FROM  THE  MISSION  DOLORES. — LAGU 
NITAS  RANCHO. 

GOLDEN  lances  pierced  the  haze  over  the  hills, 
waking  the  padre  betimes  next  morning.  Already 
the  sacristan  was  ringing  his  call. 

The  caballeros  were  kneeling  when  the  Indian 
choir  raised  the  chants.  When  mass  ended,  the 
"mozos"  scoured  the  potrero,  driving  in  the  charg 
ers.  Commandante  Peralta  lingered  a  half  hour  at 
the  priest's  house.  There,  the  flowers  bloom  in  a 
natural  tangle. 

The  quadrangle  is  deserted ;  while  the  soldier  lin 
gers,  the  priest  runs  over  the  broken  chain  of  mis 
sions.  He  recounts  the  losses  of  Mother  Church — 
seventeen  missions  in  Lower  California,  twenty-one 
all  told  in  Alta  California,  with  all  their  riches  con 
fiscated.  The  "  pious  fund  " — monument  of  the 
faithful  dead  —  swept  into  the  Mexican  coffers. 
The  struggle  of  intellect  against  political  greed 
looks  hopeless. 

The  friends  sadly  exchange  fears.  The  bride 
groom  reminds  the  priest  that  shelter  will  be  always 
his  at  the  new  rancho. 


LAGUNITAS.  29 

Peralta's  plunging  roan  frets  now  in  the  "  paseo." 
After  a  blessing,  the  Commandante  briskly  pushes 
over  the  oak  openings,  toward  the  marshes  of  the 
bay.  His  shadow,  the  old  sergeant,  ambles  along 
side.  Pearly  mists  rise  from  the  bay.  Far  to  the 
northeast  Mount  Diablo  uplifts  its  peaked  summit. 
From  the  western  ridges  balsamic  odors  of  red 
woods  float  lightly. 

Down  by  the  marshes  countless  snipe,  duck,  geese, 
and  curlew  tempt  the  absent  sportsman. 

The  traveller  easily  overtakes  his  escort.  They 
have  been  trying  all  the  arts  of  the  vaquero.  Past 
hills  where  startled  buck  and  doe  gaze  until  they 
gracefully  bound  into  the  covert,  the  riders  pursue 
the  lonely  trail.  Devoid  of  talk,  they  follow  the 
shore,  sweeping  for  six  hours  over  the  hills,  toward 
the  Mission  Dolores.  Another  hour  brings  them  to 
the  Presidio. 

This  fort  is  the  only  safeguard  of  the  State  ;  a 
battery  of  ship  guns  is  a  mere  symbol  of  power. 

In  the  quadrangle  two  companies  of  native  sol 
diers  and  a  detachment  of  artillery  constitute  the 
feeble  garrison.  Don  Miguel  Peralta  canters  up  to 
the  Commandante's  residence. 

Evening  parade  is  over.  Listless  sentinels  drag 
over  their  posts  with  the  true  military  laziness. 

Peralta  is  intent  upon  affairs  both  of  head  and 
heart.  His  comrade,  the  Commandante,  sits  late 
with  him  in  sage  counsel.  A  train  follows  from 
Monterey,  with  stores  for  the  settlement.  Sundry 
cargoes  of  gifts  for  the  fair  Juanita,  which  the  one 
Pacific  emporium  of  Monterey  alone  could  furnish, 
are  moving.  Miguel  bears  an  order  for  a  detail  of 


30  LAGUNITAS. 

a  sergeant  and  ten  men,  a  nucleus  of  a  force  in  the 
San  Joaquin.  Barges  and  a  shallop  are  needed  to 
transport  supplies  up  the  river.  By  couriers,  invi 
tations  are  to  be  sent  to  all  the  clans  not  repre 
sented  at  the  Monterey  gathering. 

The  priests  of  the  mission  must  also  be  visited 
and  prepared  for  the  wedding.  Miguel's  heart  soft 
ens.  He  thinks  of  his  bright-eyed  Californian  bride 
waiting  in  her  home,  soon  to  be  Sefiora  Peralta. 

In  twenty  days  Don  Miguel  arranges  his  inland 
voyage.  While  his  assistants  speed  abroad,  he  pays 
visits  of  ceremony  to  the  clergy  and  his  lovely  bride. 

The  great  day  of  his  life  arrives.  Clad  in  rich 
uniform,  he  crosses  to  the  eastern  shore.  A  breeze 
of  morning  moves.  The  planet  of  love  is  on  high. 
It  is  only  the  sun  tinting  the  bay  with  golden 
gleams.  Never  a  steamer  yet  has  ploughed  these 
silent  waters. 

Morning's  purple  folds  Tamalpais  in  a  magic  man 
tle.  Rolling  surges  break  on  the  bar  outside  the 
Golden  Gate.  Don  Miguel,  attended  by  friends, 
receives  his  bride,  the  Rose  of  Alameda.  Shallops 
wait.  The  merry  party  sails  for  the  western  shore. 
Fluttering  flags  decorate  this  little  navy  of  San 
Francisco. 

Merry  laughter  floats  from  boat  to  boat.  The 
tinkle  of  the  guitar  sounds  gaily.  Two  hours  end 
this  first  voyage  of  a  new  life. 

At  the  embarcadero  of  Yerba  Buena  the  party 
descends.  They  are  met  by  a  procession  of  all  the 
notables  of  the  mission  and  Presidio.  Hardy  riders 
and  ladies,  staid  matrons  and  blooming  sefioritas, 
have  gathered  also  from  Santa  Clara,  Napa,  and 


LAGUNITAS.  31 

Sonoma.  The  one  government  brig  is  crowded 
with  a  merry  party  from  Monterey. 

The  broad  "  camino  real  "  sweeps  three  miles  over 
sand  dunes  to  the  mission.  Past  willow-shaded 
lakes,  through  stunted  live-oak  groves,  the  wedding 
cavalcade  advances.  The  poverty  of  the  u  mozo  " 
admits  of  a  horse.  Even  the  humblest  admirer  of 
Don  Miguel  to-day  is  in  the  saddle.  No  one  in 
California  walks. 

With  courtly  grace  the  warrior  rides  by  his  bride. 
Juanita  Castro  is  a  true  Spanish  senorita.  Blest 
with  the  beauty  of  youth  and  the  modesty  of  the 
Castilian,  the  Rose  of  Alameda  has  the  blush  of  her 
garden  blossoms  on  her  virgin  cheek.  She  walks  a 
queen.  She  rides  as  only  the  maids  of  Alta  Cali 
fornia  can. 

The  shining  white  walls  of  the  mission  are  near. 
Eager  eyes  watch  in  the  belfry  whence  the  chimes 
proclaim  the  great  event.  To  the  west  the  Coast 
Range  hides  the  blue  Pacific.  Rolling  sand  hills 
mask  the  Presidio.  East  and  south  the  panorama  of 
shore  and  mountain  frames  the  jewel  of  the  West, 
fair  San  Francisco  bay. 

Soldiers,  traders,  dull-eyed  Indians,  and  joyous 
retainers  crowd  the  approaches. 

The  cortege  halts  at  the  official  residence.  Soon 
the  dark-eyed  bride  is  arrayed  in  her  simple  white 
robes.  Attended  by  her  friends,  Juanita  enters  the 
house  of  the  Lord.  Don  Luis  Castro  supports  the 
bride,  who  meets  at  the  altar  her  spouse.  Priests 
and  their  trains  file  in.  The  fateful  words  are 
said. 

Then  the  girl-wife  on  her  liege  lord's  arm  enters 


32  LAGUNITAS. 

the  residence  of  the  Padres  ;  a  sumptuous  California 
breakfast  awaits  the  "  gente  de  razon." 

Clangor  of  bells,  firing  of  guns,  vivas  and  popular 
clamor  follow  the  party. 

The  humbler  people  are  all  regaled  at  neighboring 
"  casas." 

In  the  home  of  the  Padres,  the  nuptial  feast 
makes  glad  the  gathered  notables.  The  clergy  are 
the  life  of  this  occasion.  They  know  when  to  lay 
by  the  austerity  of  official  robes.  From  old  to 
young,  all  hearts  are  merry. 

Alcaldes,  officials,  and  baronial  rancheros  —  all 
have  gathered  for  this  popular  wedding. 

Carrillos,  Del  Valles,  Sepulvedas,  Arguellos, 
Avilas,  Ortegas,  Estradas,  Martinez,  Aguirres  and 
Dominguez  are  represented  by  chiefs  and  ladies. 

Beakers  of  mission  vintages  are  drained  in  honor 
of  the  brave  and  fair.  When  the  sun  slopes  toward 
the  hills,  the  leaders  escort  the  happy  couple  to  the 
Presidio.  The  Commandante  and  his  bride  begin 
their  path  in  life.  It  leads  toward  that  yet  unbuilt 
home  in  the  wild  hills  of  Mariposa.  With  quaint 
garb,  rich  trappings,  and  its  bright  color,  the  train 
lends  an  air  of  middle-age  romance  to  the  landscape. 

Knightly  blood,  customs,  and  manners  linger  yet 
in  the  "dolce  far  niente  "  of  this  unwaked  para 
dise  of  the  Occident.  Sweetly  sound  the  notes  of 
the  famous  sacred  mission  bell.  It  was  cast  and 
blessed  at  far  Mendoza  in  Spain,  in  1192.  Genera 
tions  and  tens  of  generations  have  faded  into  shad 
owy  myths  of  the  past  since  it  waked  first  the  Span 
ish  echoes.  Kings  and  crowns,  even  countries,  have 
passed  into  history's  shadowy  night  since  it  first 


LAGUNITAS.  33 

rang  out.  The  cunning  artificer,  D.  Monterei, 
piously  inscribed  it  with  the  name  of  "  San  Fran- 
isco."  Mingled  gold  and  silver  alone  were  melted 
for  its  making.  Its  sacred  use  saved  the  precious 
treasure  many  times  from  robbers.  Six  hundred 
and  fifty  years  that  mellow  voice  has  warned  the 
faithful  to  prayer.  Pride  and  treasure  of  the  Fran 
ciscans,  it  followed  the  "  conquistadores  "  to  Mex 
ico.  It  rang  its  peal  solemnly  at  San  Diego,  when, 
on  July  i,  1769,  the  cross  of  the  blessed  Redeemer 
was  raised.  The  shores  of  California  were  claimed 
for  God  by  the  apostolic  representative,  sainted 
Friar  Junipero  Serra.  In  that  year  two  babes  were 
born  far  over  the  wild  Atlantic,  one  destined  to 
wrap  the  world  in  flame,  and  the  other  to  break 
down  the  mightiest  modern  empire  of  the  sword. 
It  was  the  natal  year  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  the 
child  imperially  crowned  by  nature,  and  that  iron 
chief,  Arthur  Wellesley,  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

The  old  bell  sounded  its  first  call  to  the  faithful 
on  San  Francisco  Bay,  in  1776.  It  was  but  a  few 
months  after  the  American  colonists  gave  to  won 
dering  humanity  their  impassioned  plea  for  a  world's 
liberty — the  immortal  Declaration  of  the  Fourth  of 
July. 

No  merrier  peal  ever  sounded  from  its  vibrant 
throat  than  the  rich  notes  following  Miguel  Peralta 
and  his  lovely  Rpse  of  Alameda. 

Revelry  reigns  at  the  Presidio  ;  Commandante 
Peralta's  quarters  are  open.  Music  and  brightest 
eyes  mark  the  closing  of  this  day.  In  late  watches 
the  sentinels  remember  the  feast  as  they  pace  their 
rounds,  for  none  are  forgotten  in  largesse. 
3 


34 


LAGUNITAS. 


Fair  Juanita  learns  to  love  the  dainty  title  of 
Seftora.  Light  is  her  heart  as  she  leaves  for  the 
Hills. 

Don  Miguel's  barges  already  are  on  the  San  Joa- 
quin.  The  cattle  have  reached  their  potreros  on 
the  Mariposa.  Artificer  and  "  peon  "  are  preparing 
a  shelter  for  the  lord  of  the  grant. 

Donna  Juanita  waves  her  hand  in  fond  adieu  as 
the  schooner  glides  across  to  Alameda.  Here  Com- 
mandante  Miguel  has  a  report  of  the  arrival  of  his 
trains. 

From  the  Castros'  home,  Juanita  rides  out  to 
ward  the  San  Joaquin.  Great  commotion  enlivens 
the  hacienda.  Pack-trains  are  laden  with  every 
requisite  —  tents,  hammocks,  attendants,  waiting- 
women  and  retainers  are  provided. 

Winding  out  of  the  meadows  of  the  Alameda, 
eastwardly  over  the  Coast  Range  defiles,  the  train 
advances.  Even  here  "  los  ladrones  "  (thieves  of 
animals)  are  the  forerunners  of  foreign  robbers. 
Guards  watch  the  bride's  slumbers. 

Star-lit  nights  make  the  journey  easy.  It  is  the 
rainless  summer  time ;  no  sound  save  the  congress 
of  the  coyotes,  or  the  notes  of  the  mountain  owl, 
disturbs  the  dreams  of  the  campers. 

Don  Miguel,  in  happiest  mood,  canters  beside  his 
wife.  The  party  has  its  scouts  far  in  advance. 
Resting  places  in  fragrant  woods,  with  pure  brooks 
and  tender  grass,  mark  the  care  of  the  out 
riders. 

Over  the  Coast  Range  Juanita  finds  a  land  of 
delightful  promise.  Far  away  the  rich  valley  of 
the  San  Joaquin  sweeps.  Rolling  hills  lie  on  either 


LAGUNITAS.  35 

side,  golden  tinted  with  the  ripening  wild  oats. 
Messengers  join  the  party  with  auspicious  re 
ports. 

Down  the  San  Joaquin  plains  the  train  winds. 
Here  Sefiora  Peralta  is  in  merry  mood ;  hundreds 
of  stately  elk  swing  tossing  antlers,  dashing  away 
to  the  willows.  Gray  deer  spring  over  brook  and 
fallen  tree,  led  by  some  giant  leader.  Pigeons, 
grouse,  doves,  and  quail  cleave  the  air  with  sud 
den  alarm.  Gorgeous  in  his  painted  plumage,  the 
wood  duck  whirrs  away  over  the  slow  gliding  San 
Joaquin.  Swan  and  wild  geese  cover  the  little 
islands. 

There  are  morning  vocal  concerts  of  a  feathered 
orchestra.  They  wake  the  slumbering  bride  long 
before  Don  Miguel  calls  his  swarthy  retainers  to  the 
day's  march. 

By  night,  in  the  valley,  the  sentinels  watch  for 
the  yellow  California  lions,  who  delight  to  prey  on 
the  animals  of  the  train.  Wild-cats,  lynx,  the 
beaver  and  raccoon  scuttle  away  surprised  by  this 
invasion  of  Nature's  own  game  preserves. 

It  is  with  some  terror  that  the  young  wife  sees  a 
display  of  native  horsemanship.  Lumbering  across 
the  pathway  of  the  train  a  huge  grizzly  bear  attracts 
the  dare-devils.  Bruin  rises  on  his  haunches  ;  he 
snorts  in  disdain.  A  quickly  cast  lariat  encircles 
one  paw.  He  throws  himself  down.  Another  lasso 
catches  his  leg.  As  he  rolls  and  tugs,  other  fatal 
loops  drop,  as  skilfully  aimed  as  if  he  were  only  a 
helpless  bullock.  Growling,  rolling,  biting,  and 
tearing,  he  cannot  break  or  loosen  the  rawhide 
ropes.  When  he  madly  tries  to  pull  in  one,  the 


36  LAGUNITAS. 

agile  horses  strain  upon   the  others.      He  is  firmly 
entangled.     The  giant  bear  is  tightly  bound. 

Donna  Juanita,  her  lord  by  her  side,  laughs  at  the 
dreaded  aoso."  She  enjoys  the  antics  of  the  horse 
men.  They  sport  with  their  enemy.  After  the 
fun  ends,  Bruin  receives  a  gunshot.  Choice  cuts 
are  added  to  the  camp  menu. 

The  bear,  panther,  and  rattlesnake  are  the  only 
dangers  of  the  Californian  woods. 

Days  of  travel  bring  the  hills  of  Mariposa  into  view. 
Here  the  monarchs  of  the  forest  rise  in  air;  their 
wild  harps  are  swept  by  the  cool  breezes  of  the  Si 
erras.  Tall,  stately  redwoods,  swathed  in  rich,  soft, 
fibrous  bark,  tower  to  the  skies.  Brave  oaks  spread 
their  arms  to  shelter  the  doe  and  her  fawns.  The 
madrofia,  with  greenest  leaf  and  pungent  berry, 
stands  here.  Hazels,  willows,  and  cottonwoods  fol 
low  the  water.  Bald  knolls  are  studded  with  man- 
zanita,  its  red  berry  in  harvest  now.  Sturdy  groves 
of  wild  plum  adorn  the  hillsides.  Grouse  and  squir 
rel  enjoy  their  annual  feast. 

The  journey  is  over.  When  the  train  winds 
around  a  sweeping  range,  Don  Miguel  nears  his 
wife.  The  San  Joaquin  is  studded  with  graceful 
clumps  of  evergreen.  In  its  bosom  a  lake  shines 
like  a  diamond.  The  Don  uncovers  smilingly. 
"  Mi  querida,  there  lies  your  home,  Lagunitas,"  he 
murmurs. 

Sweet  Juanita's  eyes  beam  on  her  husband.  She 
says  softly,  "  How  beautiful !  " 

It  is  truly  a  royal  domain.  From  the  lake  the 
ten  leagues  square  of  the  Commandante's  land  are 
a  panorama  of  varying  beauties.  Stretching  back 


LAGUNITAS.  37 

into  the  pathless  forests,  game,  timber,  wood,  and 
building  stones  are  at  hand ;  a  never-failing  water 
supply  for  thousands  of  cattle  is  here.  To  the 
front,  right,  and  left,  hill  pastures  and  broad  fields 
give  every  variety  of  acreage. 

Blithely  the  young  wife  spurs  her  favorite  steed 
over  the  turf.  She  nears  the  quarters.  The  old 
sergeant  is  the  seneschal  of  this  domain.  He  greets 
the  new  arrivals. 

With  stately  courtesy  the  Commandante  lifts  his 
bride  from  her  charger.  The  hegira  is  over.  The 
occupation  of  arranging  abodes  for  all  is  the  first 
task.  Already  the  cattle,  sheep,  and  horses  are  fat 
tening  on  the  prairie  grasses.  Peons  are  sawing 
lumber.  A  detachment  is  making  bricks  for  the 
houses.  These  are  one-storied  mansions  with  wide 
porches,  beloved  by  the  Californians ;  to-day  the 
most  comfortable  homes  in  the  West.  Quaintly 
superstitious,  the  natives  build  so  for  fear  of  earth 
quakes.  Corrals,  pens,  and  sheds  have  been  first 
labors  of  the  advance  guard.  The  stores  and  sup 
plies  are  all  housed. 

Don  Miguel  left  the  choice  of  the  mansion  site 
to  his  Juanita.  Together  they  visit  the  different 
points  of  vantage.  Soon  the  hacienda  rises  in  solid, 
fort-like  simplicity. 

The  bride  at  Lagunitas  strives  to  aid  her  com 
panion.  She  shyly  expresses  her  preferences.  All 
is  at  her  bidding. 

Don  Miguel  erects  his  ranch  establishment  in  a 
military  style.  It  is  at  once  a  square  stronghold 
and  mansion  shaded  with  ample  porches.  Corrals 
for  horses,  pens  for  sheep,  make  up  his  construe- 


38  LAGUNITAS. 

tions  for  the  first  year.     Already  the  herds  are  in 
creasing  under  the  eyes  of  his  retainers. 

The  Commandante  has  learned  that  no  manual 
work  can  be  expected  of  his  Californian  follow 
ers,  except  equestrian  duties  of  guarding  and  rid 
ing. 

A  flash  of  mother-wit  leads  him  to  bring  a  hun 
dred  mission  Indians  from  the  bay.  They  bear  the 
brunt  of  mechanical  toil. 

Autumn  finds  Lagunitas  Rancho  in  bloom.  Mild 
weather  favors  all.  Stores  and  supplies  are  brought 
from  San  Francisco  Bay. 

Don  Miguel  establishes  picket  stations  reaching 
to  the  Castro  Rancho. 

Save  that  Juanita  Peralta  sees  no  more  the  glo 
ries  of  the  Golden  Gate,  her  life  is  changed  only  by 
her  new,  married  relation.  A  few  treasures  of  her 
girlhood  are  the  sole  reminders  of  her  uneventful 
springtime. 

Rides  through  the  forests,  and  canters  over  the 
grassy  meadows  with  her  beloved  Miguel,  are  her 
chiefest  pleasures.  Some  little  trading  brings  in  the 
Indians  of  the  Sierras.  It  amuses  the  young  Donna 
to  see  the  bartering  of  game,  furs,  forest  nuts,  wild 
fruits  and  fish  for  the  simple  stores  of  the  rancho. 
No  warlike  cavaliers  of  the  plains  are  these,  with 
Tartar  blood  in  their  veins,  from  Alaskan  migration 
or  old  colonization.  They  have  not  the  skill  and 
mysterious  arts  of  the  Aztecs. 

These  Piute  Indians  are  the  lowest  order  of  in 
digenous  tree  dwellers.  They  live  by  the  chase. 
Without  manufactures,  with  no  language,  no  arts, 
no  agriculture,  no  flocks  or  herds,  these  wretches, 


LAGUNITAS.  39 

clad  in  the  skins  of  the  minor  animals,  are  God's 
meanest  creatures.  They  live  on  manzanita  berry 
meal,  pine-nuts,  and  grasshoppers.  Bows  and  flint- 
headed  arrows  are  their  only  weapons.  They  snare 
the  smaller  animals.  The  defenceless  deer  yield 
to  their  stealthy  tracking.  The  giant  grizzly  and 
panther  affright  them.  They  cannot  battle  with 
"  Ursus  ferox." 

Unable  to  cope  with  the  Mexican  intruders,  these 
degraded  tribes  are  also  an  easy  prey  to  disease. 
They  live  without  general  intercourse,  and  lurk  in 
the  foothills,  or  hide  in  the  caflons. 

Juanita  finds  the  Indian  women  peaceable,  abso 
lutely  ignorant,  and  yet  tender  to  their  offspring. 
The  babes  are  carried  in  wicker  baskets  on  their 
backs.  A  little  weaving  and  basket-making  com 
prise  all  their  feminine  arts.  Rudest  skin  clothing 
covers  their  stunted  forms. 

Don  Miguel  encourages  the  visits  of  these  wild 
tribes.  He  intends  to  use  them  as  a  fringe  of  faith 
ful  retainers  between  him  and  the  Americans.  They 
will  warn  him  of  any  approach  through  the  Sierras 
of  the  accursed  Yankee. 

The  Commandante,  reared  in  a  land  without 
manufactures  or  artisans,  regarding  only  his  flocks 
and  herds,  cherishes  his  military  pride  in  firmly 
holding  the  San  Joaquin  for  the  authorities.  He 
never  turns  aside  to  examine  the  resources  of  his 
domain.  The  degraded  character  of  the  Indians 
near  him  prevents  any  knowledge  of  the  great  in 
terior.  They  do  not  speak  the  language  of  his  semi- 
civilized  mission  laborers  from  the  Coast  Range. 
They  cannot  communicate  with  the  superior  tribes 


40  LAGUNITAS. 

of  the  North  and  East.  All  their  dialects  are  dif 
ferent. 

Vaguely  float  in  his  memory  old  stories  of  the 
giant  trees  and  the  great  gorge  of  the  Yosemite. 
He  will  visit  yet  the  glistening  and  secret  summits 
of  the  Sierras. 

Weeks  run  into  months.  Comfort  and  plenty 
reign  at  Lagunitas.  With  his  wife  by  his  side, 
Miguel  cons  his  occasional  despatches.  He  prom 
ises  the  Senora  that  the  spring  shall  see  a  chapel 
erected.  When  he  makes  the  official  visit  to  the 
Annual  Council,  he  will  bring  a  padre,  at  once 
friend,  spiritual  father,  and  physician.  It  is  the 
first  sign  of  a  higher  life — the  little  chapel  of 
Maripdsa. 

Winter  winds  sway  the  giant  pines  of  the  forests. 
Rains  of  heaven  swell  the  San  Joaquin.  The  sum 
mer  golden  brown  gives  way  to  the  velvety  green  of 
early  spring. 

Juanita  meekly  tells  her  beads.  With  her  women 
she  waits  the  day  when  the  bell  shall  call  to  prayer 
in  Mariposa. 

Wandering  by  Lagunitas,  the  wife  strays  in  fancy 
to  far  lands  beyond  the  ocean.  The  books  of  her 
girlhood  have  given  her  only  a  misty  idea  of 
Europe.  The  awe  with  which  she  has  listened  to 
the  Padres  throws  a  glamour  of  magic  around  these 
recitals  of  that  fairy  world  beyond  the  seas. 

Her  life  is  bounded  by  the  social  horizon  of  her 
family  circle ;  she  is  only  the  chatelaine.  Her 
domain  is  princely,  but  no  hope  clings  in  her  breast 
of  aught  beside  a  faded  middle  age.  Her  beauty 
hides  itself  under  the  simple  robe  of  the  Californian 


LAGUNITAS.  41 

matron.  Visitors  are  rare  in  this  lovely  wilderness. 
The  annual  rodeo  will  bring  the  vaqueros  together. 
Some  travelling  officials  may  reach  the  San  Joaquin. 
The  one  bright  possibility  of  her  life  is  a  future  visit 
to  the  seashore. 

Spring  casts  its  mantle  of  wild  flowers  again  over 
the  hillocks.  The  rich  grass  waves  high  in  the 
potreros ;  the  linnets  sing  blithely,  in  the  rose 
bushes.  Loyal  Don  Miguel,  who  always  keeps  his 
word,  girds  himself  for  a  journey  to  the  distant 
Presidio.  The  chapel  is  finished.  He  will  return 
with  the  looked-for  padre. 

Leaving  the  sergeant  in  command,  Don  Miguel, 
with  a  few  followers,  speeds  to  the  seashore.  Five 
days'  swinging  ride  suffices  the  soldier  to  reacfi  tide 
water.  He  is  overjoyed  to  find  that  his  relatives 
have  determined  to  plant  a  family  stronghold  on 
the  San  Joaquin.  This  will  give  society  to  the 
dark-eyed  beauty  by  the  Lagunitas  who  waits 
eagerly  for  her  Miguel's  return. 

At  the  Presidio  the  Commandante  is  feasted. 
In  a  few  days  his  business  is  over.  Riding  over 
to  the  Mission  Dolores,  he  finds  a  missionary 
priest  from  Acapulco.  He  is  self-devoted  to  labor. 
Father  Francisco  Ribaut  is  only  twenty-five  years 
of  age.  Born  in  New  Orleans,  he  has  taken  holy 
orders.  After  a  stay  in  Mexico,  the  young  enthu 
siast  reaches  the  shores  of  the  distant  Pacific. 

Commandante  Miguel  is  delighted.  Francisco 
Ribaut  is  of  French  blood,  graceful  and  kindly. 
The  Fathers  of  the  mission  hasten  to  provide  the 
needs  of  Lagunitas  chapel. 

The   barges   are   loaded    with    supplies,    councils 


42  LAGUNITAS. 

and  business  despatched.  Padre  Francisco  and 
Don  Miguel  reach  the  glens  of  Mariposa  in  the 
lovely  days  when  bird,  bud,  and  blossom  make 
Lagunitas  a  fairyland.  In  the  mind  of  the  veteran 
but  one  care  lingers — future  war.  Already  the  feuds 
of  Alvarado  and  Micheltorrena  presage  a  series  of 
domestic  broils.  Don  Miguel  hears  that  foreigners 
are  plotting  to -return  to  the  coast;  they  will  come 
back  under  the  protection  of  foreign  war-ships.  As 
his  horse  bounds  over  the  turf,  the  soldier  resolves 
to  keep  out  of  this  coming  conflict  ;  he  will  guard 
his  hard-won  heritage.  By  their  camp  fire,  Padre 
Francisco  has  told  him  of  the  Americans  wrenching 
Texas  away  from  Mexico.  The  news  of  the  world 
is  imparted  to  him.  He  asks  the  padre  if  the 
Gringos  can  ever  reach  the  Pacific. 

"  As  sure  as  those  stars  slope  to  the  west,"  says 
the  priest,  pointing  to  Orion,  gleaming  jewel-like 
in  the  clear  skies  of  the  Californian  evening. 

The  don  muses.  This  prophecy  rankles  in  his 
heart.  He  fears  to  ask  further.  He  fears  these 
Yankees. 

Joy  reigns  at  Lagunitas !  A  heartfelt  welcome 
awaits  the  priest,  a  rapturous  greeting  for  Don 
Miguel.  The  grassy  Alamedas  are  starred  with 
golden  poppies.  Roses  adorn  the  garden  walks  of 
the  young  wife.  Her  pensive  eyes  have  watched 
the  valley  anxiously  for  her  lord. 

Padre  Francisco  hastens  to  consecrate  the  chapel. 
The  Virgin  Mother  spreads  her  sainted  arms  on 
high.  A  school  for  the  Indians  soon  occupies  the 
priest. 

Months   roll   around.     The  peace  and  prosperity 


LAGUNITAS.  43 

of  the  rancho  are  emulated  by  the  new  station  in 
the  valley. 

Don  Miguel  rides  over  the  mountains  often  in  the 
duties  of  his  position.  Up  and  down  the  inland 
basin  bronzed  horsemen  sweep  over  the  untenanted 
regions,  locating  new  settlements.  San  Joaquin  val 
ley  slowly  comes  under  man's  dominion. 

Patriot,  pioneer,  and  leader,  the  Commandante 
travels  from  Sutter's  Fort  to  Los  Angeles.  He  goes 

o  o 

away  light-hearted.  The  young  wife  has  a  bright- 
eyed  girl  to  fondle  when  the  chief  is  in  the  saddle. 

Happiness  fills  the  parents'  hearts.  The  baptism 
occasions  the  greatest  feast  of  Lagunitas.  But, 
from  the  coast,  as  fall  draws  near,  rumors  of  trouble 
disturb  the  San  Joaquin. 

Though  the  Russians  are  about  to  leave  the  sea- 
coast,  still  Swiss  Sutter  has  taken  foothold  on  the 
Sacramento.  The  adherents  of  Micheltorrena  and 
Alvarado  are  preparing  for  war  in  the  early  spring. 
To  leave  Lagunitas  is  impossible.  The  Indian  tribes 
are  untrustworthy.  They  show  signs  of  aggres 
siveness.  Father  Ribaut  finds  the  Indians  of  the 
Sierras  a  century  behind  those  of  the  coast.  They 
are  devoid  of  spiritual  ideas.  Contact  with  traders, 
and  association  with  wild  sea  rovers,  have  given  the 
Indians  of  the  shore  much  of  the  groundwork  of 
practical  civilization. 

To  his  alarm,  Don  Miguel  sees  the  Indians  be 
coming  treacherous.  He  discovers  they  make  voy 
ages  to  the  distant  posts,  where  they  obtain  guns 
and  ammunition. 

In  view  of  danger,  the  Commandante  trains  his 
men.  The  old  soldier  sighs  to  think  that  the 


44  LAGUNITAS. 

struggle  may  break  out  between  divided  factions  of 
native  Californians.  The  foreigners  may  gain  foot 
hold  in  California  while  its  real  owners  quarrel. 

The  second  winter  at  Lagunitas  gives  way  to 
spring.  Rapidly  increasing  herds  need  for  their 
care  all  the  force  of  the  ranch. 

From  the  coast  plentiful  supplies  provided  by  the 
Commandante  arrive.  With  them  comes  the  news 
of  the  return  of  the  foreigners.  They  are  convoyed 
by  a  French  frigate,  and  on  the  demand  of  the 
British  consul  at  Acapulco  they  are  admitted.  This 
is  grave  news. 

Donna  Juanita  and  -the  padre  try  to  smooth  the 
gloomy  brow  of  Don  Miguel.  All  in  vain.  The 
"pernicious  foreigner"  is  once  more  on  the  shores 
of  Alta  California.  The  Mexican  eagle  flutters  list 
lessly  over  the  sea  gates  of  the  great  West.  The 
serpent  coils  of  foreign  conspiracy  are  twining 
around  it. 


CHAPTER    III. 

A    MISSING   SENTINEL. — FREMONT'S    CAMP. 

"  QuiEN  VIVE  ! "  A  sentinel's  challenge  rings 
out.  The  sounds  are  borne  away  on  the  night  wind 
sweeping  Gavilan  Peak.  No  response.  March 
breezes  drive  the  salty  fog  from  Monterey  Bay 
into  the  eyes  of  the  soldier  shivering  in  the  silent 
hours  before  dawn. 

"  Only  a  coyote  or  a  mountain  wolf,"  mutters 
Maxime  Valois.  He  resumes  his  tramp  along  the 
rocky  ramparts  of  the  Californian  Coast  Range.  His 


LAGUNITAS.  45 

eyes  are -strained  to  pierce  the  night.  He  waits,  his 
finger  on  the  trigger  of  his  Kentucky  rifle. 

Surely  something  was  creeping  toward  him  from 
the  chaparral.  No  :  another  illusion.  Pride  keeps 
him  from  calling  for  help.  Three-score  dauntless 
"  pathfinders  "  are  sleeping  here  around  intrepid 
Fremont. 

It  is  early  March  in  1846.  Over  in  the  valley 
the  herd-guard  watch  the  animals.  "  No,  not  an 
Indian,"  mutters  the  sentinel.  "  They  would  stam 
pede  the  horses  at  once.  No  Mexican  would  brave 
death  here,"  muses  Valois. 

Only  a  boy  of  twenty,  he  is  a  veteran  already. 
He  feels  for  his  revolver  and  knife.  He  knows  he 
can  defy  any  sneaking  Californian. 

"  It  must  be  some  beast,"  he  concludes,  as 
he  stumbles  along  the  wind-swept  path.  Maxime 
Valois  dreams  of  his  far-away  home  on  the  "  Lower 
Coast,"  near  New  Orleans.  He  wanders  along,  half 
asleep.  This  hillside  is  no  magnolia  grove. 

It  is  but  a  year  since  he  joined  the  great  "  Path 
finder's"  third  voyage  over  the  lonely  American 
Desert  He  has  toiled  across  to  the  Great  Salt 
Lake,  down  the  dreary  Humboldt,  and  over  the 
snowy  Sierras. 

Down  by  Walker's  Lake  the  "  pathfinders  "  have 
crept  into  the  valley  of  California.  As  he  shields 
his  face  from  biting  winds,  he  can  see  again  the 
panorama  of  the  great  plains,  billowy  hills,  and 
broad  vistas,  tantalizing  in  their  deceptive  nearness. 
Thundering  herds  of  buffalo  and  all  the  wild  chiv 
alry  of  the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes  sweep  before  him. 
The  majestic  forests  of  the  West  have  darkened  his 


46  LAGUNITAS. 

way.  The  Great  Salt  Lake,  a  lonely  inland  sea; 
Lake  Tahoe,  a  beautiful  jewel  set  in  snowy  moun 
tains  ;  and  its  fairy  sisters  near  Truckee — all  these 
pass  before  his  mental  vision. 

But  the  youth  is  tired.  Onward  ever,  like  the 
"Wandering  Jew,"  still  to  the  West  with  Fremont. 

Pride  and  hot  southern  blood  nerve  him  in  con 
flicts  with  the  fierce  savages.  Dashing  among  the 
buffalo,  he  has  ridden  in  many  a  wild  chase  where 
a  single  stumble  meant  death.  His  rifle  has  rung 
the  knell  of  elk  and  bear,  of  wolf  and  panther. 

These  varied  excitements  repaid  the  long  days  of 
march,  but  the  Louisianian  is  mercurial.  Home 
ward  wander  his  thoughts. 

Hemmed  in,  with  starvation  near,  in  the  Sierras, 
he  welcomes  this  forlorn-hope  march  to  the  sea. 
Fremont  with  a  picked  squad  has  swept  down  to 
Sutter's  Fort  to  send  succor  to  the  remaining 
"  voyageurs." 

But  the  exploring  march  to  Oregon,  and  back 
East  by  the  southern  road,  appalls  him.  He  is 
tired  now.  He  would  be  free.  As  a  mere  volun 
teer,  he  can  depart  as  soon  as  the  frigate  Portsmouth 
arrives  at  Monterey.  He  is  tired  of  Western  adven 
tures.  Kit  Carson,  Aleck  Godey,  and  Dick  Owens 
have  taught  him  their  border  lore.  They  all  love 
the  young  Southerner. 

The  party  are  now  on  the  defensive.  Maxime 
Valois  knows  that  General  Jose  Castro  has  forbid 
den  them  to  march  toward  Los  Angeles.  Gov 
ernor  Pio  Pico  is  gathering  his  army  to  overawe 
"  los  Americanos." 

Little    does   Valois    think  that  the  guns  of  Palo 


LAGUNITAS.  47 

Alto  and  Resaca  de  la  Palma  will  soon  usher  in  the 
Mexican  war.  The  "pathfinders"  are  cut  off  from 
home  news.  He  will  join  the  American  fleet,  soon 
expected. 

He  will  land  at  Acapulco,  and  ride  over  to  the 
city  of  Mexico.  From  Vera  Cruz  he  can  reach 
New  Orleans  and  the  old  Valois  plantation,  "  Belle 
Etoile."  The  magnolias'  fragrance  call  him  back 
to-night. 

Another  rustle  of  the  bushes.  Clinging  to  his 
rifle,  he  peers  into  the  gloom.  How  long  these 
waiting  hours !  The  gleaming  stars  have  dipped 
into  the  far  Pacific.  The  weird  hours  of  the  night 
watch  are  ending.  Ha!  Surely  that  was  a  crouch 
ing  form  in  the  arroyo.  Shall  he  fire  ?  No.  An 
other  deception  of  night.  How  often  the  trees 
have  seemed  to  move  toward  him !  Dark  beings 
fancifully  seemed  to  creep  upon  him.  Nameless 
terrors  always  haunt  these  night  hours. 

To  be  laughed  at  on  rousing  the  camp  ?  Never ! 
But  his  inner  nature  tingles  now  with  the  mysteri 
ous  thrill  of  danger.  Eagerly  he  scans  his  post. 
The  bleak  blasts  have  benumbed  his  senses. 

Far  away  to  the  graceful  groves  and  Gallic  beau 
ties  of  Belle  Etoile  his  truant  thoughts  will  fly 
once  more.  He  wonders  why  he  threw  up  his  law 
studies  under  his  uncle,  Judge  Valois,  to  rove  in  this 
wilderness. 

Reading  the  exploits  of  Fremont  fascinated  the 
gallant  lad. 

As  his  foot  falls  wearily,  the  flame  of  his  enthusi 
asm  flickers  very  low. 

Turning  at  the  end  of  his  post  he  starts  in  alarm. 


48  LAGUNITAS. 

Whizz  !  around  his  neck  settles  a  pliant  coil,  cast 
twenty  yards,  like  lightning.  His  cry  for  help  is 
only  a  gurgle.  The  lasso  draws  tight.  Dark  forms 
dart  from  the  chaparral.  A  rough  hand  stifles  him. 
His  arms  are  bound.  A  gag  is  forced  in  his  mouth. 
Dragged  into  the  bushes,  his  unknown  captors  have 
him  under  cover. 

The  boy  feels  with  rage  and  shame  his  arms  taken 
from  his  belt.  His  rifle  is  gone.  A  knife  presses 
his  throat.  He  understands  the  savage  hiss,  "  Va- 
mos  adelante,  Gringo  !  "  The  party  dash  through 
the  chaparral. 

Valois,  bruised  and  helpless,  reflects  that  his  im 
mediate  death  seems  not  to  be  his  captors'  will. 
Will  the  camp  be  attacked  ?  Who  are  these  ?  The 
bitter  words  show  them  to  be  Jose  Castro's  scouts. 
Is  there  a  force  near?  Will  they  attack?  All  is 
silent. 

In  a  few  minutes  an  opening  is  reached.  Horses 
are  there.  Forced  to  mount,  Maxime  Valois  rides 
away,  a  dozen  guards  around  him.  Grim  riders  in 
scrapes  and  broad  sombreros  are  his  escort.  The 
guns  on  their  shoulders  and  their  jingling  machetes 
prove  them  native  cavalry. 

For  half  an  hour  Valois  is  busy  keeping  his  seat 
in  the  saddle.  These  are  no  amiable  captors.  The 
lad's  heart  is  sad.  He  speaks  Spanish  as  fluently 
as  his  native  French.  Every  word  is  familiar. 

A  camp-fire  flickers  in  the  live-oaks.  He  is  bid 
den  to  dismount.  The  lair  of  the  guerillas  is  safe 
from  view  of  the  "  pathfinders." 

The  east  shows  glimmers  of  dawn.  The  prisoner 
warms  his  chilled  bones  at  the  fire.  He  sees  a  score 


LAGUNITAS.  49 

of  bronzed  faces  scowling  at  him.  Preparations 
for  a  meal  are  hastened.  A  swarthy  soldier,  half- 
bandit,  half-Cossack  in  bearing,  tells  him  roughly  to 
eat.  They  must  be  off. 

Maxime  already  realizes  he  has  been  designedly 
kidnapped.  His  capture  may  provide  information 
for  Castro's  flying  columns.  These  have  paralleled 
their  movements,  from  a  distance,  for  several  weeks. 
Aware  of  the  ferocity  of  these  rancheros,  he  obeys 
instantly  each  order.  He  feigns  ignorance  of  the 
language.  Tortillas,  beans,  some  venison,  with 
•water,  make  up  the  meal.  It  is  now  day.  Valois 
eats.  He  knows  his  ordeal.  He  throws  himself 
down  for  a  rest.  He  divines  the  journey  will  be 
hurried.  A  score  of  horses  are  here  tied  to  the  trees. 
In  a  half  hour  half  of  these  are  lazily  saddled. 
Squatted  around,  the  soldiers  keep  a  morose  silence, 
puffing  the  corn-husk  cigarette.  The  leader  gives 
rapid  directions.  Valois  now  recalls  his  locality  as 
best  he  can.  Fremont's  camp  on  Gavilan  Peak 
commands  the  Pajaro,  Salinas,  and  Santa  Clara.  A 
bright  sun  peeps  over  the  hills.  If  taken  west,  his 
destination  must  be  Monterey ;  if  south,  probably 
Los  Angeles  ;  and  if  north,  either  San  Francisco  Bay 
or  the  Sacramento,  the  headquarters  of  the  forces 
of  Alta  California. 

Dragged  like  a  beast  from  his  post,  leaving  the 
lines  unguarded  !  What  a  disgrace  !  Bitterly  does 
he  remember  his  reveries  of  the  home  he  may  never 
again  see. 

The  party  mounts.  Two  men  lead  up  a  tame 
horse  without  bridle.  The  leader  approaches  and 
searches  him.  All  his  belongings  fill  the  saddle- 
4 


50  LAGUNITAS. 

pouches  of  ^he  chief.  A  rough  gesture  bids  him 
mount  the  horse,  whose  lariat  is  tied  to  a  guard's 
saddle.  Valois  rages  in  despair  as  the  guard  taps 
his  own  revolver.  Death  on  the  slightest  suspicious 
movement,  is  the  meaning  of  that  sign. 

With  rough  adieus  the  party  strike  out  eastwardly 
toward  the  San  Joaquin.  Steadily  following  the 
lope  of  the  taciturn  leader,  they  wind  down  Pacheco 
Pass.  Valois'  eyes  rove  over  the  beautiful  hills  of 
the  Californian  coast.  Squirrels  chatter  on  the  live- 
oak  branches,  and  the  drumming  grouse  noisily 
burst  out  of  their  manzanita  feeding  bushes. 

Onward,  guided  by  distant  peak  and  pass,  they 
thread  the  trail.  No  word  is  spoken  save  some 
gruff  order.  Maxime's  captors  have  the  hang-dog 
manner  of  the  Californian.  They  loll  on  their  mus 
tangs,  lazily  worrying  out  the  long  hours.  A  rest 
is  taken  for  food  at  noon.  The  horses  are  herded 
an  hour  or  so  and  the  advance  resumed. 

Nightfall  finds  Valois  in  a  squalid  adobe"  house, 
thirty  miles  from  Gavilan  Peak.  An  old  serape  is 
thrown  him.  His  couch  is  the  mud  floor. 

The  youth  sleeps  heavily.  His  last  remembrance 
is  the  surly  wish  of  a  guard  that  Commandante 
Miguel  Peralta  will  hang  the  accursed  Gringo. 

At  daybreak  he  is  roused  by  a  carelessly  applied 
foot.  The  dejected  ''pathfinder"  begins  his  sec 
ond  day  of  captivity.  He  fears  to  converse.  He  is 
warned  with  curses  to  keep  silent.  In  the  long  day 
Maxime  concludes  that  the  Mexicans  suspect  treach 
ery  by  Captain  Fremont's  "  armed  exploration  in 
the  name  of  science." 

These    officials    hate    new-comers.      Valois    had 


LAGUNITAS.  5 1 

been,  like  other  gilded  youth  of  New  Orleans,  sent 
to  Paris  by  his  opulent  family.  He  knows  the 
absorbing  interest  of  the  South  in  Western  matters. 
Stern  old  Tom  Benton  indicated  truly  the  onward 
march  of  the  resistless  American.  In  his  famous 
speech,  while  the  .senatorial  finger  pointed  toward 
California,  he  said  with  true  inspiration  :  "  There  is 
the  East;  there  is  the  road  to  India." 

All  the  adventurers  of  the  South  are  ready  to 
stream  to  the  West.  Maxime  knows  the  jealous 
Californian  officials.  The  particulars  of  Fremont's 
voyage  of  1842  to  the  Rockies,  and  his  crossing  to 
California  in  1843,  are  now  history.  His  return  on 
the  quest,  each  time  with  stronger  parties  and  a 
more  formidable  armament,  is  ominous.  It  warns 
the  local  hidalgos  that  the  closed  doors  of  the  West 
must  yield  to  the  daring  touch  of  the  American — 
manifest  destiny. 

The  enemy  are  hovering  around  the  "  pathfinders  " 
entrenched  on  the  hills  ;  they  will  try  to  frighten 
them  into  return,  and  drive  them  out  of  the  regions 
of  Alta  California.  Some  sly  Californian  may  even 
contrive  an  Indian  attack  to  obliterate  them. 

Valois  fears  not  the  ultimate  fate  of  the  friends 
he  has  been  torn  away  from.  The  adventurous  boy 
knows  he  will  be  missed  at  daybreak.  The  camp 
will  be  on  the  alert  to  meet  the  enemy.  Their  keen- 
eyed  scouts  can  read  the  story  of  his  being  lassoed 
and  carried  away  from  the  traces  of  the  deed. 

The  young  rover  concludes  he  is  to  be  taken 
before  some  superior  officer,  some  soldier  charged 
with  defending  Upper  California.  This  view  is  con 
firmed.  Down  into  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin 


52  LAGUNITAS. 

the  feet  of  the  agile  mustangs  bear  the  jaded  trav 
ellers. 

They  cross  the  San  Joaquin  on  a  raft,  swimming 
their  horses.  Valois  sees  nothing  yet  to  hint  his 
impending  fate.  Far  away  the  rich  green  billows 
of  spring  grass  wave  in  the  warm  sun.  Thousands 
of  elk  wander  in  antlered  armies  over  the  mead 
ows.  Gay  dancing  yellow  antelope  bound  over 
the  elastic  turf.  Clouds  of  wild  fowl,  from  the 
stately  swan  to  the  little  flighty  snipe,  crowd  the 
tule  marshes  of  this  silent  river.  It  is  the  hunter's 
paradise.  Wild  cattle,  in  sleek  condition,  toss  their 
heads  and  point  their  long,  polished  horns.  Mus 
tangs,  fleet  as  the  winds,  bound  along,  disdaining 
their  meaner  brethren,  bowing  under  man's  yoke. 
At  the  occasional  mud-walled  ranches,  vast  flocks 
of  fat  sheep  whiten  the  hills. 

Maxime  mentally  maps  the  route  he  travels. 
Alas  !  no  chance  of  escape  exists.  At  the  first  open 
attempt  a  rifle-ball,  or  a  blow  from  a  razor-edged 
machete,  would  end  his  earthly  wanderings.  De 
spised,  shunned  by  even  the  wretched  women  at 
the  squalid  ranchos,  he  feels  utterly  alone.  The 
half-naked  children  timidly  flee  from  him.  The 
wicked  eyes  of  his  guards  never  leave  him.  He 
knows  a  feeling  animates  the  squad,  that  he  would 
be  well  off  their  hands  by  a  use  of  the  first  handy 
limb  and  a  knotted  lariat.  The  taciturn  chief 
watches  over  him.  He  guards  an  ominous  silence. 

The  cavalcade,  after  seven  days,  are  in  sight 
of  the  purpled  outlines  of  the  sculptured  Sierras. 
They  rise  heavenward  to  the  sparkling  crested 
pinnacles  where  Bret  Harte's  poet  fancy  sees  in 


LAGUNITAS.  53 

long  years  after  the  "  minarets  of  snow."  Valley 
oaks  give  way  to  the  stately  pines.  Olive  masses 
of  enormous  redwoods  wrap  the  rising  foot-hills. 
Groves  of  laurel,  acorn  oak,  and  madrofia  shelter  the 
clinging  panther  and  the  grim  warden  of  the  Sierras, 
the  ferocious  grizzly  bear. 

Over  flashing,  bounding  mountain  brooks,  cut  up 
with  great  ledges  of  blue  bed  rock,  they  splash. 
Here  the  silvery  salmon  and  patrician  trout  leap 
out  from  the  ripples  to  glide  into  the  great  hollowed 
pools,  yet  the  weary  cavalcade  presses  on.  Will 
they  never  stop  ? 

Maxime  Valois'  haggard  face  looks  back  at  him 
from  the  mirrored  waters  of  the  Cottonwood,  the 
Merced,  and  the  Mariposa.  The  prisoner  sees  there 
only  the  worn  features  of  his  strangely  altered  self. 
He  catches  no  gleam  of  the  unreaped  golden  harvest 
lying  under  .the  feet  of  the  wild  mustangs.  These 
are  the  treasure  channels  of  the  golden  West. 

The  mountain  gnomes  of  this  mystic  wilderness 
are  already  in  terror  lest  some  fortunate  fool  may 
utter  the  one  magic  word,  "  Gold."  It  will  call 
greedy  thousands  from  the  uttermost  parts  of  the 
earth  to  break  the  seals  of  ages,  and  burrow  far 
below  these  mountain  bases.  Through  stubborn 
granite  wall,  tough  porphyry,  ringing  quartz,  and 
bedded  gnarled  gneiss,  men  will  grope  for  the  feath 
ery,  fairy  veins  of  the  yellow  metal. 

A  feverish  quest  for  gold  alone  can  wake  the 
dreamy  "  dolce  far  ntente  "  of  the  Pacific.  God's 
fairest  realm  invites  the  foot  of  man  in  vain.  Here 
the  yellow  grains  will  be  harvested,  which  buy  the 
smiles  of  beauty,  blunt  the  sword  of  justice,  and 


54  LAGUNITAS. 

tempt  the  wavering  conscience  of  young  and  old. 
It  will  bring  the  human  herd  to  one  grovelling  level 
— human  swine  rooting  after  the  concrete  token  of 
power.  Here,  in  later  years,  the  wicked  arm  of 
power  will  be  given  golden  hammers  to  beat  down 
all  before  it.  Here  will  that  generation  arise 
wherein  the  golden  helmet  can  dignify  the  idle  and 
empty  pate. 

Maxime,  now  desperate,  is  ready  for  any  fate. 
Only  let  this  long  ride  cease.  Sweeping  around 
the  hills,  for  the  first  time  he  sees  the  square  courts 
yard,  the  walled  casas  of  the  rancho  of  Lagunitas. 

By  the  shores  of  the  flashing  mountain  lake, 
with  the  rich  valley  sweeping  out  before  it,  it  lies 
in  peace.  The  fragrant  forest  throws  out  gallant 
flanking  wings  of  embattled  trees.  It  is  the  resi 
dence  of  the  lord  of  ten  leagues  square.  This  is 
the  great  Peralta  Rancho. 

In  wintering  in  the  San  Joaquin,  Maxime  has 
often  heard  of  the  fabulous  wealth  and  power  of 
this  inland  chieftain.  Don  Miguel  Peralta  is  Com- 
mandante  of  the  San  Joaquin.  By  a  fortunate  mar 
riage  he  is  related  to  Jose  Castro,  the  warlike  Com- 
mandante  general  of  Pio  Pico — a  man  of  mark 
now.  Thousands  of  cattle  and  horses,  with  great 
armies  of  sheep,  are  herded  by  his  semi-military 
vaqueros.  The  young  explorer  easily  divines  now 
the  reason  of  his  abduction. 

The  party  dismounts.  While  the  sergeant  seeks 
the  major-domo,  Valois'  wondering  eye  gazes  on  the 
beauties  of  lake  and  forest.  Field  and  garden,  bower 
and  rose-laden  trellises  lie  before  him.  The  rich 
autumn  sun  will  ripen  here  deep-dyed  clusters  of 


LAGUNITAS.  55 

the  sweet  mission  grapes.  It  is  a  lordly  heritage, 
and  yet  his  prison.  Broad  porches  surround  the 
plaza.  There  swinging  hammocks,  saddled  steeds, 
and  waiting  retainers  indicate  the  headquarters  of 
the  Californian  Don. 

Maxime  looks  with  ill-restrained  hatred  at  his 
fierce  guards.  They  squat  on  the  steps  and  eye 
him  viciously.  He  is  under  the  muzzle  of  his  own 
pistol.  It  is  their  day  of  triumph. 

Dragging  across  the  plaza,  with  jingling  spur, 
trailing  leggings,  and  sombrero  pushed  back  on  his 
head,  the  sergeant  comes.  He  points  out  Maxime 
to  a  companion.  The  new-comer  conducts  the 
American  prisoner  to  a  roughly  furnished  room. 
A  rawhide  bed  and  a  few  benches  constitute  its 
equipment.  A  heavy  door  is  locked  on  him.  The 
prisoner  throws  himself  on  the  hard  couch  and 
sleeps.  He  is  wakened  by  an  Indian  girl  bring 
ing  food  and  water.  Some  blankets  are  carelessly 
tossed  in  by  a  "mozo."  The  wanderer  sleeps  till 
the  birds  are  carolling  loudly  in  the  trees. 

Hark !  a  bell !  He  springs  to  the  window.  Valois 
sees  a  little  chapel,  with  its  wooden  cross  planted  in 
front.  Is  there  a  priest  here?  The  boy  is  of  the 
old  faith.  He  looks  for  a  possible  friend  in  the 
padre.  Blessed  bell  of  peace  and  hope! 

Sturdy  and  serious  is  the  major-domo  who  briskly 
enters  Valois'  room. 

"  Do  you  speak  Spanish  ?"  he  flatly  demands  in 
that  musical  tongue. 

"Yes,"  says  Maxime,  without  hesitation.  He 
knows  no  subterfuge  will  avail.  His  wits  must 
guard  his  head. 


56  LAGUNITAS. 

"Give  me  your  name,  rank,  and  story,"  demands 
the  steward. 

Valois  briefs  his  life  history. 

"You  will  be  taken  to  the  Commandante.  I 
advise  you  not  to  forget  yourself;  you  may  find 
a  lariat  around  your  neck."  With  which  admoni 
tion  the  major-domo  leaves.  He  tosses  Maxime 
a  bunch  of  cigaritos,  and  offers  him  a  light  ere  go 
ing,  with  some  show  of  courtesy. 

Valois  builds  no  fallacious  hopes  on  this  slender 
concession.  He  knows  the  strange  Mexicans.  They 
would  postpone  a  military  execution  if  the  con 
demned  asked  for  a  smoke. 

Facing  his  fate,  Maxime  decides,  while  crossing 
the  plaza,  to  conceal  nothing.  He  can  honorably 
tell  his  story.  Foreigners  have  been  gathering  in 
California  for  years.  The  Commandante  can  easily 
test  his  disclosures,  so  lying  would  be  useless.  He 
believes  either  a  British  or  American  fleet  will  soon 
occupy  California.  The  signs  of  the  times  have 
been  unmistakable  since  the  last  return  of  the  for 
eigners.  Will  he  live  to  see  the  day?  "Quien 
sabe?  " 

Maxime  sees  a  stern  man  of  fifty  seated  in  his 
official  presence  room.  Commandante  Miguel  Pe- 
ralta  is  clad  in  his  undress  cavalry  uniform.  The 
sergeant  captor  is  in  attendance,  while  at  the  door 
an  armed  sentinel  hovers.  This  is  the  wolf's  den. 
Maxime  is  wary  and  serious. 

"You  are  a  Yankee,  young  man,"  begins  the 
soldier,  Maxime  Valois'  Creole  blood  stirs  in  his 
veins. 

"  I     am      an     American,     Seftor    Commandante, 


LAGUNITAS.  57 

"  from  New  Orleans.  No  Yankee  !  "  he  hotly 
answers,  forgetting  prudence.  Peralta  opens  his 
eyes  in  vague  wonder.  No  Yankee?  He  questions 
the  rash  prisoner.  Valois  tells  the  facts  of  Fre 
mont's  situation,  but  he  firmly  says  he  knows  noth 
ing  of  his  future  plans. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  demands  Peralta.  "  Are  you  a  com 
mon  soldier?"  Maxime  explains  his  position  as  a 
volunteer. 

A  pressing  inquest  follows.  Maxime's  frankness 
touches  the  Commandante  favorably.  "  I  will  see 
you  in  a  day  or  so.  I  shall  hold  you  as  a  pris 
oner  till  I  know  if  your  chief  means  war.  I  may 
want  you  as  an  interpreter  if  I  take  the  field." 

"  Sergeant,"  he  commands. 

The  captor  salutes  his  chief. 

"  Has  this  young  man  told  me  the  truth?  " 

"  As  far  as  I  know,  Seflor  Don  Miguel,"  is  the 
reply. 

"  See  that  he  has  all  he  wants.  Keep  him 
watched.  If  he  behaves  himself,  let  him  move 
around.  He  is  not  to  talk  to  any  one.  If  he  tries 
to  escape,  shoot  him.  If  he  wants  to  see  me,  let 
me  know." 

The  Commandante  lights  a  Mexican  cigar,  and 
signs  to  the  sergeant  to  remove  his  prisoner.  Max 
ime  sees  a  score  of  soldiers  wandering  around  the 
sunny  plaza,  where  a  dozen  fleet  horses  stand  sad 
dled.  He  feels  escape  is  hopeless.  As  he  moves 
to  the  door,  the  chapel  bell  rings  out  again,  and 
with  a  sudden  inspiration  he  halts. 

"  Seftor  Commandante,  can  I  see  the  priest  ?  "  he 
asks. 


58  LAGUNITAS. 

"What  for?"  sharply  demands  the  officer, 

"  I  am  a  Catholic,  and  would  like  to  talk  to  him." 

Don  Miguel  Peralta  gazes  in  wonder.  "  A  Gringo 
and  a  Catholic  !  I  will  tell  him  to  see  you." 

Valois  is  reconducted  to  his  abode.  He  leaves 
a  puzzled  Commandante,  who  cannot  believe  that 
any  despised  "  Gringo"  can  be  of  the  true  faith. 
He  has  only  seen  the  down-east  hide  traders,  who 
are  regarded  as  heathen  by  the  orthodox  Dons  of 
the  Pacific. 

Don  Miguel  knows  not  that  the  mariners  from 
Salem  and  the  whalers  of  New.  England  hold  differ 
ent  religious  views  from  the  impassioned  Creoles  of 
the  Crescent  City. 

The  prisoner's  eye  catches  the  black  robe  of  the 
priest  fluttering  among  the  rose  walks  of  the  gar 
den.  Walking  with  him  is  a  lady,  while  a  pretty 
girl  of  seven  or  eight  years  plays  in  the  shady 
bowers. 

The  sergeant  gruffly  fulfils  the  orders  of  his 
chief.  Maxime  is  given  the  articles  needed  for  his 
immediate  use.  He  fears  now,  at  least,  a  long  cap 
tivity,  but  a  war  may  bring  his  doom  suddenly  on 
him. 

There  is  an  air  of  authority  in  Miguel  Peralta's 
eye,  which  is  a  guarantee  of  honor,  as  well  as  a 
personal  menace.  His  detention  will  depend  on 
the  actions  of  the  besieged  Fremont. 

Valois  prays  that  bloodshed  may  not  occur.  His 
slender  chances  hang  now  on  a  peaceable  solution 
of  the  question  of  this  Yankee  visit. 

There  have  been  days  in  the  dreary  winter, 
when  Maxime  Valois  has  tried  to  divine  the  future 


LAGUNITAS.  59 

of  the  magnificent  realm  he  traverses.  His  educa 
tion  and  birth  gave  him  the  companionship  of  the 
scientific  subordinates  of  the  party.  His  services 
claimed  friendly  treatment  of  the  three  engineer 
officers  in  command.  That  the  American  flag  will 
finally  reach  the  western  ocean  he  doubts  not. 
Born  in  the  South,  waited  upon  by  patrimonial 
slaves,  he  is  attached  to  the  "  peculiar  institution  " 
which  throws  its  dark  shadow  on  the  flag  of  this 
country.  Already  statesmen  of  the  party  have  dis 
cussed  the  question  of  the  extension  of  slavery. 
Maxime  Valois  knows  that  the  line  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise  will  here  give  a  splendid  new  southern 
star  to  the  flag  south  of  36°  30'.  In  the  long,  idle 
hours  of  camp  chat,  he  has  laughingly  pledged  he 
would  bring  a  band  of  sable  retainers  to  this  west 
ern  terra  incognita.  He  dreamed  of  establishing  a 
great  plantation,  but  the  prison  cell  shatters  these 
foolish  notions. 

He  marvels  at  his  romantic  year's  experience. 
Was  it  to  languish  in  a  lonely  prison  life  on  the 
far  Pacific,  that  he  left  the  gay  circle  at  far-off 
Belle  Etoile  ?  Worn  with  fatigue,  harassed  with 
loneliness,  a  prisoner  among  strangers,  Maxime 
Valois'  heart  fails  him.  Sinking  on  the  couch,  he 
buries  his  head  in  his  hands. 

No  present  ray  of  hope  cheers  the  solitary  Amer 
ican.  He  raises  his  eyes  to  see  the  thoughtful  face 
of  a  young  priest  at  the  door  of  his  prison  room. 


60  LAGUNITAS. 

CHAPTER    IV. 

HELD  BY  THE  ENEMY. — "  THE  BEAR  FLAG." 

THE  padre  bends  searching  eyes  on  the  youth  as 
the  door  opens.  The  priest's  serious  face  heightens 
his  thirty-five  years.  He  is  worn  by  toil  as  a  mis 
sionary  among  the  tribes  of  the  Gila — the  Apaches 
and  the  wild  and  brutal  Mojaves.  Here,  among 
the  Piute  hill  dwellers,  his  task  is  hopeless.  This 
spiritual  soil  is  indeed  stony.  Called  from  the  so 
ciety  of  Donna  Juanita  and  his  laughing  pupil, 
merry  Dolores,  he  comes  to  test  the  religious  faith 
of  the  young  freebooter — Yankee  and  Catholic  at 
once. 

Maxime's  downcast  appearance  disarms  the 
padre.  Not  such  a  terrible  fire-eater!  He  savors 
not  of  infidel  Cape  Cod. 

"  My  son,  you  are  in  trouble,"  softly  says  the 
padre.  It  is  the  first  kind  word  Maxime  has  heard. 
The  boy's  heart  is  full,  so  he  speaks  freely  to  the 
mild-mannered  visitor.  Padre  Francisco  listens 
to  the  recital.  His  eyes  sparkle  strangely  when 
Valois  speaks  of  New  Orleans. 

"  Then  you  understand  French  ?  "  cries  the  padre 
joyously. 

"  It  is  my  native  tongue/'  rejoins  Valois  proudly. 

"  My  name  before  I  took  orders  was  Francois 
Ribaut,"  says  the  overjoyed  father.  "  Hold  !  I 
must  see  Don  Miguel.  I  am  a  Frenchman  myself." 
He  flies  over  the  plaza,  his  long  robe  fluttering 
behind  him.  His  quickened  steps  prove  a  friendly 


LAGUNTTAS.  6l 

interest.  Maxime's  heart  swells  within  him.  The 
beloved  language  has  unlocked  the  priestly  heart. 

In  five  minutes  the  curate  is  back.  "  Come  with 
me,  '  mon  fils,'  "  he  says.  Guided  by  the  priest, 
Maxime  leaves  his  prison,  its  unlocked  door  swing 
ing  open.  They  reach  the  head  of  the  square. 

By  the  chapel  is  Padre  Francisco's  house,  school 
room,  and  office.  A  sacristy  chamber  connects 
chapel  and  dwelling. 

The  missionary  leads  the  way  to  the  chancel, 
and  points  to  the  altar  rails. 

"I  will  leave  you,"  he  whispers. 

There,  on  his  knees,  where  the  wondering  In 
dians  gaze  in  awe  of  the  face  on  the  Most  Blessed 
Virgin,  Maxime  thanks  God  for  this  friend  raised 
up  to  him  in  adversity. 

He  rejoins  the  missionary  on  the  rose-shaded 
porch.  In  friendly  commune  he  answers  every 
eager  query  of  the  padre.  The  priest  finds  Max 
ime  familiar  with  Paris.  It  is  manna  in  the  wilder 
ness  to  this  lonely  man  of  God  to  speak  of  the 
beloved  scenes  of  his  youth. 

After  the  Angelus,  Maxime  rests  in  the  swinging 
hammock.  The  priest  confers  with  the  Comman- 
dante.  His  face  is  hopeful  on  returning.  "  My 
poor  boy,"  he  says,  "  I  gained  one  favor.  Don 
Miguel  allows  me  to  keep  you  here.  He  loves  not 
the  American.  Promise  me,  my  son,  on  the  blessed 
crucifix,  that  you  will  not  escape.  You  must  not 
aid  the  American  troops  in  any  way;  on  this  hangs 
your  life." 

These  words  show  that  under  the  priest's  frock 
beats  yet  the  gallant  heart  of  the  French  gentle- 


62  LAGUNITAS. 

man.  Maxime  solemnly  promises.  The  good 
father  sits  under  the  vines,  a  happy  man. 

Day  by  day  the  new  friends  stroll  by  the  lake. 
Seated  where  below  them  the  valley  shines  in  all 
its  bravery  of  spring,  surrounded  Avith  the  sighing 
pines,  Padre  Francisco  tells  of  the  resentment  of  the 
Californians  toward  all  Americans.  They  are  all 
"  Gringos,"  "  thieving  Yankees." 

"  Be  careful,  my  son,  even  here.  Our  wild  va- 
queros  have  waylaid  and  tortured  to  death  some 
foreigners.  The  Diggers,  Utes,  and  Hill  Indians 
butcher  any  wanderer.  Keep  closely  under  my  pro 
tection.  Don  Miguel  adores  Donna  Juariita,  sweet 
Christian  lady  !  She  will  lend  me  aid  ;  you  are  thus 
safe.  If  your  people  leave  the  Hawk's  Peak  without 
a  battle,  our  cavalry  will  not  take  the  field  ;  we  ex 
pect  couriers  momentarily.  Should  fighting  begin, 
Don  Miguel  will  lead  his  troops.  He  will  then  take 
you  as  guide  or  interpreter  ;  God  alone  must  guard 
you."  The  man  of  peace  crosses  himself  in  sad 
ness.  "  Meanwhile,  I  will  soften  the  heart  of  Don 
Miguel." 

Maxime  learns  of  the  padre's  youth.  Educated 
for  the  Church  after  a  boyhood  spent  in  Paris,  he 
sailed  for  Vera  Cruz.  He  has  been  for  years  among 
the  Pacific  Indians.  He  familiarized  himself  with 
the  Spanish  language  and  this  western  life  in  Mex 
ico.  Stout-hearted  Padre  Francisco  worked  from 
mission  to  mission  till  he  found  his  self-chosen  field 
in  California. 

The  "pathfinder"  sees  the  decadence  of  priestly 
influence.  Twenty-one  flourishing  missions  have 
been  secularized  by  Governor  Hijar  since  1834.  Now 


LAGUNITAS.  63 

the  superior  coast  tribes  are  scattered,  and  the  civil 
izing  work  since  1769  is  all  lost  to  human  progress. 
In  glowing  words  Padre  Francisco  tells  of  idle 
farms,  confiscated  flocks,  and  ruined  works  of  utility. 
Beautiful  San  Luis  Rey  is  crumbling  to  decay.  Its 
bells  hang  silent.  The  olive  and  vine  scatter  their 
neglected  fruits.  The  Padres  are  driven  off  to 
Mexico.  The  pious  fund  is  in  profane  coffers.  San 
Juan  Capistrano  shines  out  a  lonely  ruin  in  the 
southern  moonlight.  The  oranges  of  San  Gabriel 
now  feed  only  the  fox  and  coyote.  Civil  dissension 
and  wars  of  ambitious  leaders  follow  the  seizure  of 
the  missions.  Strangers  have  pillaged  the  religious 
settlements.  All  is  relapsing  into  savagery.  In  a 
few  stations,  like  Monterey,  Santa  Clara,  Santa  Bar 
bara,  and  Yerba  Buena,  a  lonely  shepherd  watches 
a  diminished  flock  ;  but  the  grand  mission  system  is 
ruined. 

"  Does  not  the  Government  need  the  missions?" 
queries  Maxime. 

"  Ah  !  my  son,  Sonoma  and  San  Rafael  are  kept 
up  to  watch  the  Russians  at  Fort  Ross.  Sutter  men 
aces  us  at  New  Helvetia.  I  can  see  the  little  cloud 
of  the  future,  which  will  break  one  day  in  storm/' 

"  Whence  comes  it,  father  ?  "  queries  the  pris 
oner. 

"  From  the  United  States,"  replies  the  padre. 
"Our  whole  political  system  is  paralyzed.  The 
Americans  have  supported  the  Texans  in  battle. 
That  splendid  land  is  dropping  away  from  Mexico. 
We  will  lose  this  glorious  land,  and  our  beloved  flag 
will  go  down  forever.  The  Government  sleeps,  and 
the  people  will  be  ruined.  There  are  two  thousand 


64  LAGUXITAS. 

scattered  foreigners  here  to-day.  They  gain  daily  : 
we  weaken  hourly.  When  your  people  in  numbers 
follow  such  leaders  as  your  gallant  captain  over  the 
plains,  we  will  lose  this  land  also." 

The  padre  sighed.     His  years  of  hard   endeavor 
are  wasted,  the  fruits  are  wanting,  his  labor  is  vain. 

••  Why  is  not  your  Government  more  vigorous  ?  " 
says  the  stranger. 

"  My  son,  our  pastoral  life  builds  up  no  resources 
of  this  great  land.  The  young  men  will  not  work  ; 
they  only  ride  around.  Flocks  and  herds  alone 
will  not  develop  this  paradise.  The  distance  from 
Mexico  has  broken  the  force  of  the  laws.  In  fifty- 
five  years  of  Spanish  rule  and  twenty-three  more  of 
Mexican,  we  have  had  twenty-two  differen  ->«ers. 
The  old  families  have  lost  their  loyalty,  and  they 
now  fight  each  other  for  supremacy.  All  i*  4 
and  confusion  in  Alta  California." 

•'  And  the  result  ?  "  questions  Maxime. 

"  Either  England  or  the  United  St.ire.- 
us  off  forever,"  mourns  the  padre.  He  a«J -" 
himself  to  his  beads.  Bright  sunlight  wak 
ime  with  the  birds.  The  matin  bell  rir 
He  rises  refreshed  by  the  father's  hospitality. 

During  the  day  Valois  measures  the  generos" 
Padre    Francisco.     A   few   treasured    books 
Maxime   to  amuse   himself.     As   yet  he  dare.,  i- 
venture  out  of  the  garden. 

The  sound  of  clattering  hoofs  causes  the  prison* 
to    drop  his  volume.      He    sits  enjoying  a  flask 
ripe   claret,  for  he   is   broken    down    and    needs 
cruiting. 

A  courier  spurs  his  foam-covered  horse  up  to 


LAGUNITAS.  65 

Commandante's  porch.  Panting  and  staggering, 
the  poor  beast  shows  the  abuse  of  a  merciless  rider. 
The  messenger's  heels  are  adorned  with  two  inch 
spiked  wheels,  bloody  with  spurring  the  jaded 
beast. 

Peace  or  war  ?  Maxime's  heart  beats  violently. 
He  prudently  withdraws.  The  wild  soldiery  gather 
on  the  plaza.  His  guards  are  there  with  his  own 
weapons,  proudly  displayed. 

The  Southerner  chafes  in  helplessness.     Could  he 

but  have   his    own    horse    and    those   weapons,    he 

would  meet  any  two   of  them   in  the  open.     They 

are  now  clamoring  against  the  Gringos.     Soon  the 

courier  reappears.     All  is  bustle  and  shouting.     Far 

awav   r  al  the   rich   knolls,  Maxime  sees  fleet  riders 

gathering  up  the  horses  nearest  the  ranch.     When 

'-^  Francisco  arrives  from  his  morning  lessons,  a 

troop  01  v  aqueros  are  arrayed  on  the  plaza. 

"The  news?  "  eagerly  queries  Maxime. 

?  be  to  God  !  "  says  the  padre,  "  Fremont 
ha%_tejkerr  camp  after  five  days'  stay  at  the  Hawk's 
j  He  is  moving  north.      There  has  been  skir- 
,r,  but  no  battle.     Don  Miguel  is  sending  a 
company  to  watch  their  march,  and   will  attack  if 
,menace  any  of  our  sentinels.     The  Americans 
i it> however,   go   into  Oregon,   or  back  over  the 
,  _,pc.atains.      The  Commandante  will  keep  his  main 
.  jrce  in  the  valley.     If  they  turn  back,  he  will  dis 
pute  their  passage.     You  will  be  kept  here." 

Valois  gazes  on  the  departure.     He  takes  an  in- 
•rmal   adieu    of  those   trusty  weapons  which  have 
en  with  him  in  so  many  scenes  of  danger. 
.[JThe  last  files  sweep  down  the  trail.     Lagunitas 
5 


66  LAGUNITAS. 

Lake  smiles  peacefully  from  its  bowers.  The  war 
clouds  have  rolled  north. 

As  days  glide  by,  the  priest  and  his  youthful 
charge  grow  into  each  other's  hearts.  Padre  Fran 
cisco  is  young  enough  still  to  have  some  flowers  of 
memory  blossoming  over  the  stone  walls  of  his  in 
domitable  heart.  Maxime  learns  the  story  of  his 
early  life.  He  listens  to  the  padre's  romantic  re 
citals  of  the  different  lands  he  has  strayed  over. 
Couriers  arrive  daily  with  news  of  Fremont's  whirl 
ing  march  northward.  The  explorer  travels  like  a 
Cossack  in  simplicity.  He  rides  with  the  sweep 
of  the  old  Tartars.  Cool,  wary  and  resolute,  the 
"  Pathfinder  "  manoeuvres  to  baffle  clumsy  Castro. 
He  may  yet  elude  his  pursuers,  or  cut  his  way 
out. 

Don  Miguel  steadily  refuses  to  see  Maxime. 
Through  the  padre,  Maxime  receives  any  necessary 
messages  or  questions. 

The  Louisianian  learns  that  all  the  foreigners  are 
in  commotion.  Peralta's  spies  bring  rumors  of  war 
vessels  expected,  both  English  and  American. 

In  New  Helvetia,  in  Sonoma,  at  Monterey,  and 
in  Yerba  Buena,  guided*  by  the  most  resolute,  the 
aliens  are  quietly  arming ;  they  are  secretly  organ 
izing. 

March  wears  away  into  April.  The  breath  of 
May  is  wafted  down  in  spicy  odors  from  the  forests. 

Fremont  is  away  hiding  where  the  great  Sacra 
mento  River  mountains  break  into  the  gorgeous 
caftons  of  its  headwaters.  Will  he  never  turn? 

The  padre,  now  unreservedly  friendly,  tells  Max 
ime  that  Castro  fears  to  attack  Fremont  in  the 


LAGUNITAS.  67 

open  field.  He  has  sent  Indian  runners  to  stir  up 
the  wild  Klamath,  Snake  River,  and  Oregon  Indians 
against  the  Americans.  This  is  serious.  Should 
the  explorers  receive  a  check  there,  they  would 
retreat  ;  then  the  guerillas  would  cut  them  off 
easily. 

Padre  Francisco  fears  for  the  result.  He  tells 
Maxime  that  bands  of  fierce  vaqueros  are  riding 
the  roads  ;  they  have  already  butchered  straggling 
foreigners.  A  general  war  of  extermination  may 
sweep  from  Sonoma  to  San  Diego. 

Valois'  weary  eyes  have  roved  from  mountain  to 
valley  for  many  days.  Will  he  ever  regain  his  lib 
erty?  A  few  morning  walks  with  the  padre,  and  a 
stroll  by  the  waters  of  Lagunitas,  are  his  only  lib 
erties. 

The  priest  is  busy  daily  with  the  instruction  of 
little  Dolores.  The  child's  sweet,  dancing  eyes 
belie  her  mournful  name.  Valois  has  passed  quiet 
Donna  Juanita  often  in  the  garden  walks.  A  light 
bending  of  her  head  is  her  only  answer  to  the 
young  man's  respectful  salutation.  She,  too,  fears 
and  distrusts  all  Americans. 

The  roses  have  faded  from  her  cheeks  too  early. 
It  is  the  hard  lot  of  the  California  lady.  Though 
wealth  of  lands  in  broad  leagues  dotted  with  thou 
sands  of  cattle,  horses,  and  sheep  is  hers,  this 
daughter  of  an  old  feudal  house  has  dreamed  away 
a  lonely  life.  It  is  devoid  of  all  social  pleasures 
since  she  became  the  first  lacly  of  Lagunitas. 

Colorless  and  sad  is  her  daily  life.  Denied  society 
by  her  isolation,  she  is  yet  too  proud  to  associate 
with  her  women  dependants. 


68  LAGUNITAS. 

Her  lord  is  away  often  in  the  field.  His  days 
are  spent  galloping  over  his  broad  domains.  There 
is  no  intellectual  life,  no  change  of  day  and  day. 
The  years  have  silently  buried  themselves,  with  no 
crown  of  happy  memories.  She  left  her  merry 
home  at  the  Alameda  shore  of  the  great  bay  to  be 
the  lonely  lady  of  this  distant  domain.  Her  nar 
row  nature  has  settled  into  imitative  and  mechani 
cal  devotion,  a  sad,  cold  faith. 

Youthful  lack  of  education  has  not  been  re 
paired  by  any  individual  experience  of  life.  Ma 
ternity  has  been  a  mere  physical  epoch  of  her 
dreary  womanhood.  The  current  of  her  days 
in  narrow  channels  sluggishly  flows  toward  its 
close. 

Even  the  laughing  child  runs  away  from  the 
young  "  pathfinder."  She  furtively  peers  at  him 
from  the  shelter  of  the  graceful  vines  and  rose 
bowers  of  her  playground. 

Maxime  has  exhausted  the  slender  library  of  his 
friend.  In  the  peaceful  evening  hours  he  listens 
to  weird  stories  of  the  lonely  land  of  the  Far  West 
— early  discovery,  zealous  monkish  exploration, 
daring  voyages  in  trackless  unknown  seas,  and  the 
descent  of  curious  strangers.  Bold  Sir  Francis 
Drake,  Cabrillo,  Viscaino,  Portala,  the  good  Juni- 
pero  Serra  of  sainted  memory,  live  again  in  these 
recitals. 

Day  by  day  passes.  No  news  from  the  Ameri 
cans  at  bay  in  the  wilds  of  the  Klamath.  By 
courier  the  Don  has  heard  of  Castro's  feeble 
moves.  He  toils  along  with  his  cavalry,  guns,  and 
foot  soldiers,  whom  Fremont  defied  from  behind 


LAGUNITAS.  69 

the  rocky  slopes  of  Hawk's  Peak.  The  foreigners 
are  all  conspiring. 

A  cloud  of  government  agents  are  scouring  the 
valleys  for  aid  to  send  a  column  to  attack  Fre 
mont.  It  had  been  a  pride  of  Don  Miguel's  mili 
tary  career  to  assist  warlike  Vallejo  to  drive  the 
foreigners  from  Monterey  in  1840.  He  is  ready  for 
the  fray  again. 

The  Commandante  gnashed  his  teeth  when  he 
heard,  in  1842,  at  Lagunitas,  that  the  strangers  had 
returned.  He  remembers  the  shameful  day  of 
October  19,  1842,  when  the  Yankee  frigates  cov 
ered  Monterey  with  their  guns,  while  Commodore 
Jones  hoisted  the  stars  and  stripes  for  a  day  or  so. 
Always  before  the  English. 

Though  it  was  disowned,  this  act  showed  how 
easily  the  defenceless  coast  could  be  ravaged. 
Many  times  did  he  thank  the  Blessed  Virgin  that 
his  domain  was  far  away  in  the  inland  basin. 
There  his  precious  herds  are  safe  from  the  invader. 

There  is  danger  for  Valois  in  the  Commandante's 
scowl  when  the  saddest  May  day  of  his  life  comes. 
A  rider  on  relay  horses  hands  him  a  fateful  de 
spatch. 

"  Curse  the  Gringos  !  "  He  strikes  his  table  till 
the  glasses  ring. 

There  are  five  huge  Yankee  war  vessels  in  Mon 
terey  harbor.  It  is  too  true.  This  time  they  have 
come  to  stay.  Padre  Francisco  softly  makes  his 
exit.  He  keeps  Maxime  in  cover  for  a  day  or  so. 

Bit  by  bit,  the  details  come  to  light.  The 
Savannah,  Portsmouth,  Cyane,  Levant,  and  Congress 
bear  the  flag  of  Commodore  Sloat.  This  force  can 


70  LAGUNITAS. 

crush  any  native  army.  All  communication  by  sea 
with  Mexico  is  now  cut  off.  The  Californian  Gov 
ernment  is  paralyzed. 

Worse  and  worse,  the  wild  Klamath  warriors 
have  failed  in  their  midnight  dash  on  Fremont. 
He  is  now  swinging  down  the  valley — a  new  dan 
ger  to  Maxime. 

What  means  all  this?  The  perplexed  Don  knows 
not  what  to  do.  From  his  outposts  come  menacing 
news.  The  battery  of  the  Portsmouth  commands 
the  town  of  Yerba  Buena.  San  Diego,  too,  is  under 
American  guns.  The  Cyane  is  victorious  there,  and 
the  Congress  holds  San  Pedro.  The  political  fabric 
is  so  slight  that  its  coming  fall  gives  no  sign.  The 
veteran  Commandante  receives  an  order  to  march, 
with  every  available  man,,  to  join  General  Castro. 
He  feels  even  his  own  domains  are  now  in  danger. 
He  communes  long  with  the  padre.  He  musters 
every  vaquero  for  their  last  campaign  under  the 
Mexican  eagle. 

Miguel  Peralta  growls  with  rage.  He  learns  the 
English  liner  Collingwood  has  arrived,  a  day  or  so 
too  late — only  another  enemy.  Still,  better  tempo 
rary  English  rule  than  the  long  reign  of  the  grasp 
ing  Yankee.  The  Don's  self-interest,  in  alarm,  is  in 
the  logical  right  this  time. 

How  shall  he  protect  his  property?  What  will  he 
do  with  his  family  ?  He  knows  that  behind  him  the 
great  Sierras  wall  the  awful  depths  of  the  Yosem- 
ite.  The  gloomy  forests  of  the  big  trees  appall  the 
stray  traveller.  The  Utes  are  merciless  in  the  day 
of  their  advantage,  and  the  American  war  vessels 
cut  off  all  escape  by  sea  to  Mexico.  All  the  towns 


LAGUNITAS.  7 1 

near  the  ocean  are  rendezvous  of  defiant  foreigners, 
now  madly  exultant.  To  the  north  is  the  enemy 
he  is  going  out  to  fight. 

Padre  Francisco  advises  him  to  leave  the  rancho 
in  his  charge.  He  begs  him  to  even  let  the  young 
American  prisoner  remain. 

Lagunitas  may  be  seized,  yet  private  property 
will  be  respected.  Young  Valois  may  be  a  help 
to  considerate  treatment.  After  council  with  his 
frightened  spouse,  Don  Miguel  rides  off  to  the  ren 
dezvous  near  Santa  Clara.  He  curbs  his  passion 
from  prudence  only,  for  he  was  on  the  point  of 
making  Valois  a  human  tassel  for  a  live-oak  limb. 

The  padre  breaths  freer. 

Day  after  day  elapses.  Under  a  small  body-guard 
both  the  padre  and  Maxime  ride  the  domain  in 
freedom.  Juanita  Peralta  shuts  herself  up  in  the 
gloomy  mansion,  where  she  tells  her  beads  in  the 
shadow  of  the  coming  defeats. 

Rich  and  lovely  Lagunitas  is  yet  out  of  the 
theatre  of  action.  Its  lonely  inhabitants  hear  of  the 
now  rapid  march  of  events,  but  only  defeated  riders 
wander  in  with  heavy  ticlings. 

Fremont  has  whirled  back  once  more  and  controls 
Sutter's  Fort  and  Sonoma.  The  ablest  general  of 
California  is  powerless.  Gallant  Vallejo  is  now  a 
prisoner.  His  scanty  cannons  and  arms  are  all 
taken.  Castro's  cavalry  are  broken  up  or  captured. 
Everywhere  the  foreigners  gather  for  concerted 
action.  It  is  a  partisan  warfare. 

Don  Miguel's  sullen  bulletins  tell  of  Castro's 
futile  attempt  to  get  north  of  the  bay.  Since  Ca- 
brillo  was  foiled  in  landing  at  Mendocino  in  1543, 


?2  LAGUNTTAS. 

the  first  royal  flag  floating  over  this  "  No  Man's 
Land  "  was  Good  Queen  Bess's  standard,  set  up  in 
1579  by  dashing  Sir  Francis  Drake.  He  landed 
from  the  Golden  Hind.  In  1602  the  Spanish 
ensign  floated  on  December  10  at  Monterey  ;  in 
1822  the  third'  national  ensign  was  unfurled,  the 
beloved  Mexican  eagle-bearing  banner.  It  now 
flutters  to  its  downfall. 

Don  Miguel  warns  the  padre  that  the  rude  "  bear 
flag"  of  the  revolted  foreigners  victoriously  floats 
at  Sonoma.  It  was  raised  on  July  4,  1846.  Castro 
and  Pio  Pico  are  driven  away  from  the  coast.  They 
only  hold  the  Santa  Clara  valley  and  the  interior. 
There  is  but  one  depot  of  arms  in  the  country  now; 
it  is  a  hidden  store  at  San  Juan.  Far  away  in 
Illinois,  a  near  relative  of  the  painter  and  hoister  of 
the  "  bear  flag  "  is  a  struggling  lawyer.  Todd's  ob 
scure  boyhood  friend,  Abraham  Lincoln,  is  destined 
to  be  the  martyr  ruler  of  the  United  States.  A 
new  star  will  shine  in  the  stars  and  stripes  for  Califor 
nia,  in  a  bloody  civil  war,  far  off  yet  in  the  mystic 
future. 

In  the  narrow  theatre  where  the  decaying  Latin 
system  is  falling,  under  Anglo-Saxon  self-assertion, 
the  stern  logic  of  events  teaches  Don  Miguel  better 
lessons.  His  wild  riders  may  as  well  sheathe  their 
useless  swords  as  fight  against  fate. 

The  first  blood  is  drawn  at  Petaluma.  A  declara 
tion  of  independence,  rude  in  form,  but  grimly 
effective  in  scope,  is  given  out  by  the  "  bear  flag  " 
party.  Fremont  joins  and  commands  them.  The 
Presidio  batteries  at  San  Francisco  are  spiked  by 
Fremont  and  daring  Kit  Carson.  The  cannon  and 


LAGUNITAS.  73 

arms  of  Castro  arc  soon  taken.  On  July  7,  Cap 
tain  Mervine,  with  two  hundred  and  fifty  blue 
jackets,  raises  the  flag  of  the  United  States  at 
Monterey.  Its  hills  reecho  twenty-one  guns  in 
salvo  from  Sloat's  squadron. 

On  the  8th,  Montgomery  throws  the  national 
starry  emblem  to  the  breeze  at  the  Golden  Gates 
of  San  Francisco.  The  old  Portsmouth's  heavy 
cannon  roar  their  notes  of  triumph. 

Valois  remains  lonely  and  inactive  at  Lagunitas. 
His  priestly  friend  warns  him  that  he  would  be 
assassinated  at  any  halting  place  if  he  tried  to  join 
his  friends.  In  fact,  he  conceals  his  presence  from 
any  wayfaring,  Yankee-hunting  guerillas. 

Don  Miguel  is  bound  by  his  military  oath  to  keep 
the  field.  A  returning  straggler  brings  the  crushing 
news  that  the  San  Juan  military  depot  has  been 
captured  by  a  smart  dash  of  the  American  volun 
teers  under  Fremont  and  Gillespie.  And  San  Diego 
has  fallen  now.  The  bitter  news  of  the  Mexican 
War  is  heard  from  the  Rio  Grande.  A  new  sor 
row  ! 

Broken-hearted  Don  Miguel  bravely  clings  to  his 
flag.  He  marches  south  with  Castro  and  Pico. 
The  long  weeks  wear  along.  The  arrival  of  General 
Kearney,  and  the  occupation  of  San  Diego  and  Los 
Angeles,  are  the  prelude  to  the  last  effort  made  for 
the  honor  of  the  Mexican  ensign.  Months  drag 
away.  The  early  winter  finds  Don  Miguel  still 
missing.  Commodore  Stockton,  now  in  command 
of  the  powerful  fleet,  reinforces  Fremont  and  Gil 
lespie.  The  battles  of  San  Gabriel  and  the  Mesa 
teach  the  wild  Californians  what  bitter  foes  their 


74  LAGUNITAS. 

invaders  can  be.  The  treaty  of  Coenga  at  last  ends 
the  unequal  strife.  The  stars  and  stripes  wave  over 
the  yet  unmeasured  boundaries  of  the  golden  West. 
The  Dons  are  in  the  conquerors'  hands.  After  the 
fatal  day  of  January  16,  1847,  defeated  and  de 
spairing  of  the  future  of  his  race,  war-worn  Miguel 
Peralta,  Commandante  no  longer,  with  a  few  fol 
lowers  rides  over  the  Tehachap<§.  He  descends  the 
San  Joaquin  to  his  imperilled  domain. 

With  useless  valor  he  has  thrown  himself  into  the 
fire  of  the  Americans  at  the  battles  near  Los  An 
geles,  but  death  will  not  come  to  him.  He  must 
live  to  be  one  of  the  last  Dons.  The  defeats  of 
Mexico  sadden  and  embitter  him.  General  Scott 
is  fighting  up  to  the  old  palaces  of  the  Montezumas 
with  his  ever  victorious  army. 

In  these  stormy  winter  days,  when  the  sheeted 
rain  drives  down  from  the  pine-clad  Sierras,  Donna 
Juanita  day  by  day  turns  her  passive  face  in  mute 
inquiry  to  the  padre.  She  has  the  sense  of  a  new 
burden  to  bear.  Her  narrow  nature  contracts  yet 
a  little  with  a  sense  of  wounded  native  pride. 

In  all  her  wedded  years  her  martial  lord  has 
always  returned  in  victory.  Fandango  and  feast, 
"  baile  "  and  rejoicings,  have  made  the  woodland 
echoes  ring. 

The  growing  Dolores  mopes  in  the  lonely  man 
sion.  She  demands  her  absent  father  daily. 

Before  the  troopers  of  Lagunitas  return  with 
their  humbled  chieftain,  a  squad  of  mounted  Ameri 
can  volunteers  ride  up  and  take  possession.  For 
the  first  time  in  its  history  the  foreigner  is  master 
here.  Though  personally  unknown  to  these  mixed 


LAGUNITAS.  75 

revolutionists,  Maxima  Valois  is  free  to  go  in 
safety. 

While  he  makes  acquaintance  with  his  fellow 
"  patriots,"  the  advance  riders  of  Don  Miguel  an 
nounce  his  home-coming.  It  is  a  sad  day  when 
the  Commandante  dismounts  at  his  own  door. 
There  is  a  sentinel  there.  He  lives  to  be  only  a 
sullen,  brooding  protest  in  the  face  of  an  accidental 
progress. 

Standing  on  his  porch  he  can  see  the  "  mozos," 
under  requisition,  gathering  up  his  choicest  horses 
by  the  fifties.  They  are  destined  for  the  necessary 
remount  of  the  victors. 

After  greeting  his  patient  helpmeet,  henceforth 
to  be  the  partner  of  his  sorrows,  he  sends  for  the 
padre  and  his  major-domo.  He  takes  on  himself 
the  only  dignity  left  to  his  defeated  pride,  practical 
self-isolation. 

He  bears  in  his  bosom  this  rankling  thorn — the 
hated  Fremont  he  rode  out  to  bring  in  a  captive, 
is  now  "  His  Excellency  John  C.  Fremont,"  the 
first  American  governor  of  California. 

With  his  flocks  and  herds  scattered,  his  cattle 
and  horses  under  heavy  requisition,  his  cup  is  full. 
He  moodily  curses  the  Gringo,  and  wishes  that  the 
rifle-ball  which  wounded  him  at  San  Gabriel  had 
reached  the  core  of  his  proud  old  heart. 

From  all  sides  come  fugitives  with  news  of  the 
Americanization  of  the  towns.  The  inland  communi 
ties  are  reorganized.  His  only  friend  is  the  Padre, 
to  whose  patient  ear  he  confides  the  story  of  the 
hopeless  campaign.  With  prophetic  pessimism  he 
sees  the  downfall  of  the  native  families. 


?6  LAGUNITAS. 

Three  months  have  made  Larkin,  Redding,  Ide, 
Sutter,  Semple,  Merritt,  Bidwell,  Leese,  and  Las- 
sen  the  leading  men  of  the  day.  The  victorious 
military  and  naval  chiefs,  Sloat,  Stockton,  Mont 
gomery,  Fremont,  Kearney,  Halleck,  and  Gillespie 
are  now  men  of  history.  All  the  functions  of 
government  are  in  the  hands  of  American  army  or 
navy  officers.  The  fall  of  the  beloved  Mexican  ban 
ner  is  as  light  and  unmarked  as  the  descent  of  the 
drifting  pine-needles  torn  from  the  swaying  branches 
of  the  storm-swept  forest  kings  around  him. 

His  settled  gloom  casts  a  shadow  over  Laguni- 
tas.  The  padre  has  lost  his  scholars.  The  converts 
of  the  dull  Indian  tribes  have  fled  to  the  hills,  leav 
ing  the  major-domo  helpless.  All  is  in  domestic 
anarchy.  At  last  the  volunteers  are  leaving. 

When  the  detachment  is  ready  to  depart,  Maxime 
Valois  is  puzzled.  The  Mexican  War  raging,  pre 
vents  his  homeward  voyage  as  planned.  It  will  be 
months  before  the  war  vessels  will  sail.  If  allowed 
to  embark  on  them,  he  will  be  left,  after  doubling 
Cape  Horn,  a  stranger  in  the  north,  penniless. 
Why  not  stay  ? 

Yet  the  shelter  of  Lagunitas  is  his  no  more. 
The  maddened  Don  will  not  see  an  American  on  the 
bare  lands  left  to  him.  His  herds  and  flocks  are 
levied  on  to  feed  the  troops. 

Many  an  hour  does  the  youth  confer  with  Fran- 
gois  Ribaut.  The  priest  is  dependent  on  his  patron. 
The  Church  fabric  is  swept  away,  for  Church  and 
state  went  down  together.  With  only  one  friend 
in  the  State,  Valois  must  now  quit  his  place  of 
enforced  idleness. 


LAGUNITAS.  77 

The  meagre  news  tells  him  the  Fremont  party 
is  scattered.  He  has  no  claims  on  the  American 
Government.  But  Fremont  has  blossomed  into  a 
governor.  He  will  seek  him.  Happily,  while  Max- 
ime  Valois  deliberates,  the  question  decides  itself. 
He  is  offered  the  hospitality  of  an  escort  back  to 
Santa  Clara,  from  whence  he  can  reach  Monterey, 
San  Francisco,  or  Los  Angeles.  In  the  new  State 
no  present  avenues  are  open  to  a  castaway.  His 
education  is  practically  useless.  He  is  forced  to 
consider  the  question  of  existence.  The  utmost 
Padre  Francisco  can  do  is  to  provide  him  horse  and 
gear.  A  few  Mexican  dollars  for  the  road  are  not 
lacking.  The  lot  of  fate  is  drawn  for  him  by  neces 
sity.  For  the  present  he  must  be  a  Californian.  He 
cannot  leave  until  the  future  provides  the  means. 

When  the  vigil  of  the  departure  comes,  the  young 
man  is  loath  to  leave  his  friend.  In  their  compan 
ionship  they  have  grown  dear  to  each  other. 

The  camp  of  the  volunteers  is  ready  for  the  next 
day's  march.  At  their  last  dinner,  the  simple  cheer 
of  the  native  wine  and  a  few  cigaritos  is  all  the 
padre  can  display. 

"  Maxime,  listen.  You  are  young  and  talented," 
the  padre  begins.  "  I  see  a  great  community  grow 
ing  up  here,  This  is  a  land  of  promise.  The  ter 
mination  of  the  war  ends  all  tumult.  Your  fleet 
holds  the  coast.  Mexico  seems  to  be  under  the 
talons  of  your  eagle.  Your  nation  is  aggressive. 
It  is  of  high  mechanical  skill.  Your  people  will 
pour  into  this  land  and  build  here  a  great  empire. 
Your  busy  Yankees  will  never  be  satisfied  with  the 
skeleton  wealth  of  a  pastoral  life.  They  will  dig, 


78  LAGUNITAS. 

hew,  and  build.  These  bays  and  rivers  will  be 
studded  with  cities.  Go,  my  dear  friend,  to  Yerba 
Buena.  I  will  give  you  letters  to  the  fathers  of  the 
Mission  Dolores.  Heaven  will  direct  you  after  you 
arrive.  You  can  communicate  with  me  through 
them.  I  shall  remain  here  as  long  as  my  charge 
continues.  If  driven  out,  I  shall  trust  God  to  safely 
guide  me  to  France.  When  I  am  worn  out,  I  shall 
die  in  peace  under  the  shadows  of  Notre  Dame." 

At  the  hour  of  mass  Maxime  kneels  to  receive 
the  blessing  of  the  Church. 

The  volunteers  are  in  the  saddle.  It  is  the  man, 
not  the  priest,  who  embraces  the  freed  "  pathfinder." 
Valois'  eyes  are  dim  with  tears  as  he  waves  the  adieu 
to  the  missionary.  Not  a  word  does  Don  Miguel 
vouchsafe  to  the  departing  squad.  The  aversion  of 
the  dwellers  in  Lagunitas  is  as  great  as  their  chief's. 

Maxime  joins  the  escort  on  the  trail.  Runaway 
sailors,  voyageurs,  stray  adventurers  are  they — 
queer  flotsam  on  the  sea  of  human  life.  He  learns 
from  them  the  current  stories  of  the  day.  He  can 
trace  in  the  mysterious  verbal  "  order  to  return," 
and  that  never-produced  "  packet  "  given  to  Fre 
mont  by  Gillespie,  a  guiding  influence  from  afar. 
The  appearance  of  the  strong  fleet  and  the  hos 
tilities  of  Captain  Fremont  are  mysteriously  con 
nected.  Was  it  from  Washington  these  wonders 
were  worked?  As  they  march,  unopposed,  over  the 
alamedas  of  San  Joaquin,  bearing  toward  the  Coast 
Range,  they  pass  under  overhanging  Mount  Diablo. 
The  Louisianian  marvels  at  the  sudden  change  of  so 
many  peaceful  explorers  into  conquering  invaders. 
Valois  suspects  Senator  Benton  of  intrigues  toward 


LAGUNITAS.  79 

western  conquest.  He  knows  not  that  somewhere, 
diplomatically  lost  between  President  Polk  and  Sec 
retaries  Buchanan,  Marcy,  and  Bancroft,  is  the  true 
story  of  this  seizure  of  California.  Gillespie's  orders 
were  far  in  advance  of  any  Mexican  hostilities.  The 
fleet  and  all  the  actions  of  the  State,  War,  and  Navy 
departments  prove  that  some  one  in  high  place  knew 
the  Pacific  Coast  would  be  subdued  and  held. 

Was  it  for  slavery's  added  domains  these  glori 
ous  lands  were  destined  ? 

Maxime  is  only  a  pawn  in  that  great  game  of 
which  the  annexation  of  Texas,  the  Mexican  War, 
and  California  conquest  are  moves. 

Wise,  subtle,  far-seeing,  and  not  over-scrupulous, 
the  leaders  of  southern  sentiment,  with  prophetic 
alarm,  were  seeking  to  neutralize  free-State  exten 
sion  in  the  Northwest.  They  wished  to  link  the 
warmer  climes,  newly  acquired,  to  the  Union  by 
negro  chains.  Joying  in  his  freedom,  eager  to 
meet  the  newer  phases  of  Californian  life  under  the 
stars  and  stripes,  Valois  rides  along.  Restored  in 
health,  and  with  the  light  heart  and  high  hopes  of 
twenty,  he  threads  the  beautiful  mountain  passes; 
for  the  first  time  he  sees  the  royal  features  of  San 
Francisco  Bay,  locked  by  the  Golden  Gates. 


BOOK  II. 

GOLD  FOR  ALL. — A    NEW  STAR   IN 
THE    FLAG. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  GOLDEN  MAGNET. — FREE  OR  SLAVE? 

MAXIME  VALOIS  marvels  not  that  the  old  naviga 
tors  missed  the  Golden  Gate.  It  was  easy  to  pass 
the  land-locked  bay,  with  its  arterial  rivers,  the  Sac 
ramento  and  San  Joaquin.  Fate  hung  a  foggy 
curtain  on  the  outside  bar.  Greenest  velvet  sward 
now  carpets  the  Alameda  hills.  It  is  a  balmy 
March  day  of  1847.  The  proceeds  of  his  horse  and 
trappings  give  the  youth  less  than  a  hundred  dol 
lars — his  whole  fortune. 

The  Louisianian  exile,  with  the  world  before  him, 
is  now  a  picture  of  manly  symmetry.  Graceful,  well- 
knit  physique,  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  his  soft,  im 
passioned  speech,  betray  the  Franco-American  of 
the  Gulf  States.  While  gazing  on  the  glories  of 
Tamalpais  and  the  wooded  mountains  of  Marin,  he 
notes  the  little  mission  under  the  Visitacion  hills. 
It's  a  glorious  scene.  All  the  world's  navies  can 
swing  at  ease  in  this  superb  bay.  The  only  banner 
floating  here  is  the  ensign  at  the  peak  of  the  frig- 


LAGUNITAS.  8 1 

ate  Portsmouth.  Interior  wanderings  give  him  a 
glimpse  of  the  vast  areas  controlled  by  this  noble 
sheet  of  water.  Young  and  ardent,  with  a  superior 
education,  he  may  be  a  ruling  spirit  of  the  new  State 
now  about  to  crystallize.  His  studies  prove  how 
strangely  the  finger  of  Fortune  points.  It  turned 
aside  the  prows  of  Captain  Cook,  La  Perouse,  Van 
couver,  and  the  great  Behring,  as  well  as  the  bold 
Drake,  who  tarried  within  a  day's  sail  at  his  New 
Albion.  Frenchman,  Englishman,  and  Russian  have 
been  tricked  by  the  fairy  goddess  of  the  mist.  The 
Golden  Gates  in  these  later  days  are  locked  by  the 
Yankees  from  the  inside. 

Leaping  from  the  boat,  Valois  tosses  his  scanty 
gear  on  the  strand.  It  is  a  deep,  curving  bay,  in 
later  years  to  be  covered  with  stately  palaces  of 
commerce,  far  out  to  where  the  Portsmouth  now  lies. 

A  few  huts  make  up  the  city  of  Yerba  Buena.  Re 
flecting  on  his  status,  he  dares  not  seek  the  alcalde, 
Lieut.  Washington  Bartlett  of  the  navy.  From  his 
escort  he  has  heard  of  the  many  bickerings  which  have 
involved  Sloat,  Stockton,  Fremont,  and  Kearney. 

Trusting  to  Padre  Francisco's  letters,  he  hires  a 
horse  of  a  loitering  half-breed.  This  native  pilots 
him  to  the  mission. 

The  priests  receive  him  with  open  arms.  They 
are  glad  for  news  of  their  brother  of  the  Sierras. 
Maxime  installs  himself  as  a  guest  of  the  priests. 
Some  current  of  life  will  bear  him  onward — whither 
he  knows  not. 

Idle   days   run   into  weeks.     A  motley  five  or  six 
hundred  whites  have  gathered.     The  alcalde  begins 
to  fear  that  the  town  limits  are  crowded. 
6 


82  LAGUNITAS. 

None  of  the  wise  men  of  the  epoch  dare  to  dream 
that  in  less  than  three  years  two  hundred  vessels 
will  lie  tossing,  deserted  in  the  bay ;  that  the  cove 
will  be  filled  with  ships  from  the  four  corners  of 
the  earth  in  five  years. 

Frowning  hills  and  rolling  sand  dunes  are  to  be 
thrown  bodily  into  the  reentrant  bay.  They  are  fut 
ure  coverings  for  sunken  hulks.  Where  for  twenty 
square  miles  coyote  and  fox  now  howl  at  night,  the 
covert  oaks  and  brambles  will  be  shaved  off  to  give 
way  to  a  city,  growing  like  a  cloud-land  vision. 

Active  and  energetic,  Valois  coasts  down  to  Mon 
terey.  He  finds  Fremont  gone,  already  on  his  way 
east.  His  soldier  wrists  are  bound  with  the  red 
tape  of  arrest.  The  puppet  of  master  minds  behind 
the  scenes,  Fremont  has  been  a  "pathfinder"  for 
others. 

Riding  moodily,  chafing  in  arrest,  at  the  rear  of 
the  overland  column,  the  explorer  receives  as  much 
as  Columbus,  Pizarro,  or  Malespina  did — only  ob 
loquy.  It  is  the  Nemesis  of  disgrace,  avenging  the 
outraged  and  conquered  Californians. 

A  dark  shade  of  double  dealing  hangs  around  the 
glories  of  the  capture  of  California.  The  methods 
used  are  hardly  justified,  even  by  the  national  bless 
ings  of  extension  to  this  ocean  threshold  of  Asian 
trade.  The  descent  was  planned  at  Washington  to 
extend  the  domineering  slave  empire  of  the  aspir 
ing  South.  The  secret  is  out.  The  way  is  clear  for 
the  surplus  blacks  of  the  South  to  march  in  chains 
to  the  Pacific  under  the  so-called  "flag  of  freedom." 

Valois  discovers  at  Monterey  that  no  man  of  the 
staff  of  the  "  Pathfinder"  will  be  made  an  official  pet. 


LAGUNITAS.  83 

They  are  all  proscribed.  The  early  fall  finds  him 
again  under  the  spell  of  the  bells  of  the  Mission 
Dolores.  Whither  to  turn  he  knows  not. 

Averse  to  manual  labor,  like  all  Creoles,  the  lad 
decides  to  seek  a  return  passage  on  some  trader. 
This  will  be  hardly  possible  for  months.  The 
Christmas  chimes  of  1848  sound  sadly  on  his  ears. 

With  no  home  ties  but  his  uncle,  his  memories  of 
the  parents,  lost  in  youth,  fade  away.  He  feels  the 
bitterness  of  being  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land.  He 
is  discouraged  with  an  isolated  western  empire  pro 
ducing  nothing  but  hides  and  tallow.  He  shares 
the  general  opinion  that  no  agriculture  can  succeed 
in  this  rainless  summer  land  of  California.  Hardly 
a  plough  goes  afield.  On  the  half-neglected  ranchos 
the  owners  of  thousands  of  cattle  have  neither  milk 
nor  butter.  Fruits  and  vegetables  are  unattainable. 
The  mission  grapes,  olives,  and  oranges  have  died 
out  by  reason  of  fourteen  years'  neglect.  The  me 
chanic  arts  are  absent.  What  shall  the  harvest  of 
this  idle  land  be  ? 

Valois  knows  the  interior  Indians  will  never  bear 
the  strain  of  development.  Lazy  and  ambitionless, 
they  are  incapable  of  uniting  their  tribal  forces. 
Alas  for  them  !  They  merely  cumber  the  ground. 

At  the  end  of  January,  1848,  a  wild  commotion 
agitates  the  hamlet  of  San  Francisco.  The  cry  is 
"Gold!  Gold  everywhere!"  The  tidings  are  at 
first  whispered,  then  the  tale  swells  to  a  loud 
clamor.  In  the  stampede  for  the  interior,  Maxime 
Valois  is  borne  away.  He  seeks  the  Sacramento, 
the  Feather,  the  Yuba,  and  the  American.  He  too 
must  have  gold. 


84  LAGUNITAS. 

A  general  hegira  occurs.  Incoming  ships,  little 
settlements,  and  the  ranches  are  all  deserted,  for 
a  wondrous  golden  harvest  is  being  gleaned.  The 
tidings  go  forth  over  the  whole  earth.  Sail  and 
steam,  trains  of  creaking  wagons,  troops  of  hardy 
horsemen,  are  all  bent  Westward  Ho  !  Desertion 
takes  the  troops  and  sailors  from  camp  and  fleet 
pell-mell  to  the  Sacramento  valley.  A  shabby  ex 
crescence  of  tent  and  hut  swells  Yerba  Buena  to  a 
town.  In  a  few  months  it  leaps  into  a  city's  rank. 
Over  the  prairies,  toward  the  sandy  Humboldt,  long 
emigrant  trains  are  crawling  toward  the  golden 
canons  of  the  Sierras.  The  restless  blood  of  the 
Mexican  War  pours  across  the  Gila  deserts  and  the 
sandy  wastes  of  the  Colorado. 

The  Creole  boy  learns  that  he,  too,  can  work  with 
pick,  pan,  cradle,  rocker,  at  the  long  torn,  sluice,  and 
in  the  tunnel  drift.  The  world  is  mad  for  gold. 
New  York  and  New  Orleans  pour  shiploads  of 
adventurers  in  by  Panama  and  Nicaragua.  Sail 
ing  vessels  from  Europe,  fleets  around  the  Horn, 
vessels  from  Chile,  Mexico,  Sandwich  Islands,  and 
Australia  crowd  each  other  at  the  Golden  Gates, 

In  San  Francisco  six  months  show  ten  thousand 
madmen.  Tent  hut,  shanty,  shed,  even  pretentious 
houses  appear.  Uncoined  nuggets,  glittering  gold 
dust  in  grains  and  powder,  prove  the  harvest  is 
real. 

The  Indians  and  lazy  Californians  are  crowded 
out  of  the  diggings.  The  superior  minds  among 
the  priests  and  rancheros  can  only  explain  the  long 
ignorance  of  the  gold  deposits  by  the  absolute 
brutishness  of  the  hill  tribes.  Their  knowledge  of 


LAGUNITAS.  85 

metals  was  absolutely  nothing.  Beyond  flint- 
headed  spears,  their  bows  and  arrows,  and  a  few 
mats,  baskets,  and  skin  robes,  they  had  no  arts  or 
useful  handicraft.  Starving  in  a  land  of  plenty, 
their  tribal  career  never  lifted  itself  a  moment  from 
the  level  of  Jthe  brute.  And  yet  gold  was  the  Span 
iards'  talisman. 

The  Mexican-descended  rancheros  should  have 
looked  for  gold.  The  traditions  even  indicated  it. 
Their  hold  on  the  land  was  only  in  the  footprints  of 
their  horses  and  cattle. 

Had  the  priests  ever  examined  the  interior,  had  a 
single  military  expedition  explored  the  State  with 
care,  the  surface  gold  deposits  must  have  been 
stumbled  on. 

It  remains  an  inexplicable  fact,  that,  as  early  as 
1841,  gold  was  found  in  the  southern  part  of  the 
State.  In  1843,  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  ounces 
of  dust  were  obtained  from  the  Indians,  and  sent  to 
Boston  via  the  Sandwich  Island  trading  ships. 
Keen  old  Sir  Francis  Drake's  reports  to  good  Queen 
Bess  flatly  spoke  of  these  yellow  treasures.  They, 
too,  were  ignored.  English  apathy !  Pouring  in 
from  the  whole  world,  bursting  in  as  a  flood  of  noisy 
adventurers  on  the  stillness  of  the  lazy  land  of  the 
Dons,  came  the  gold  hunters  of  California. 

Already,  in  San  Francisco,  drinking  booth,  gam 
bling  shop,  and  haunts  of  every  villany  spring  up — 
the  toadstools  of  a  night. 

Women  throng  in  to  add  the  incantations  of  the 
daughters  of  Sin  to  this  mad  hurly-burly.  Hand 
some  Mexicans,  lithe  Chilefias,  escaped  female  con 
victs,  and  women  of  Australia  were  reinforced  by 


86  LAGUNITAS. 

the  adventuresses  of  New  Orleans,  Paris,  New  York, 
and  Liverpool — a  motley  crowd  of  Paphian  dames. 

Maxime  Valois,  reaching  Slitter's  Fort  by  a 
launch,  falls  in  with  a  lank  Missouri  lad.  His  sole 
property  in  the  world  is  a  rifle  and  his  Pike  county 
name  of  Joe  Woods.  A  late  arrival  with  a  party  of 
Mexican  war  strays,  his  age  and  good  humor  cause 
the  Creole  to  take  him  as  valuable,  simply  because 
one  and  one  make  two.  He  is  a  good-humored 
raw  lad.  Together  in  the  broiling  sun,  half  buried 
under  bank  or  in  the  river-beds,  they  go  through 
the  rough  evolution  of  the  placer  miner's  art. 

The  two  thousand  scattered  foreigners  of  the  State 
are  ten  thousand  before  the  year  is  out.  Through 
the  caftons,  troops  of  gold  seekers  now  wander. 
Sacramento's  lovely  crystal  waters,  where  the  silvery 
salmon  leap,  are  tinged  with  typical  yellow  colors, 
deepening  every  month.  Tents  give  way  to  cabins  ; 
pack  trains  of  mules  and  horses  wind  slowly  over 
the  ridges.  Little  towns  dot  the  five  or  six  river 
regions  where  the  miners  toil,  and  only  the  defeated 
are  idle. 

From  San  Diego  to  Sonoma  the  temporary  gov 
ernment  is  paralyzed.  It  loses  all  control  except 
the  fulmination  of  useless  orders. 

Local  organization  occurs  by  the  pressure  of 
numbers.  Quaint  names  and  queer  local  institu 
tions  are  born  of  necessity. 

At  San  Francisco  the  tower  of  Babel  is  dupli 
cated.  Polyglot  crowds  arrive  in  the  craziest  craft. 
Supplies  of  every  character  pour  in.  Shops  and 
smiths,  workmen  of  all  trades,  appear.  Already  an 
old  steamboat  wheezes  on  the  Sacramento  River. 


LAGUNITAS.  8/ 

Bay  steamers  soon  vex  the  untroubled  waters  of  the 
harbor.  They  appear  as  if  by  magic. 

A  fever  by  day,  a  revel  by  night,  San  Francisco  is 
a  caravansera  of  all  nations.  The  Argonauts  bring 
with  them  their  pistols  and  Bibles,  their  whiskey 
and  women,  their  morals  and  murderers.  Crime  and 
intrigues  quickly  crop  out.  The  ready  knife,  and  the 
compact  code  of  Colonel  Colt  in  six  loaded  chap 
ters,  are  applied  to  the  settlement  of  all  quarrels. 

While  Valois  blisters  his  hands  with  the  pick  and 
shovel,  a  matchless  strain  of  good  blood  is  also 
pouring  westward.  Young  and  daring  men,  even 
professional  scholars,  cool  merchants,  able  artisans, 
and  good  women  hopeful  of  a  golden  future,  come 
with  men  finally  able  to  dragoon  these  varied  masses 
into  order. 

Regular  communications  are  established,  presses 
set  up,  and  even  churches  appear.  Post-office, 
banks,  steamer  and  freight  lines  spring  up  within 
the  year  of  the  reign  of  gold.  Disease  raises  its 
fevered  head,  and  the  physician  appears  by  magic. 
The  human  maelstrom  settles  into  an  ebb  and  flood 
tide  to  and  from  the  mines. 

All  over  California  keen-eyed  men  from  the  West 
and  South  begin  to  appropriate  land.  The  East 
ern  and  Middle  States  pilgrims  take  up  trades  and 
mechanical  occupations.  All  classes  contribute 
recruits  to  the  scattered  thousands  of  miners. 
Greedy  officials  and  sly  schemers  begin  to  prey  on 
the  vanishing  property  rights  of  the  Dons.  A 
strange,  unsubstantial  social  fabric  is  hastily  reared. 
It  clusters  around  the  western  peaks  by  the  Golden 
Gate. 


88  LAGUNITAS. 

Missouri,  Texas,  Arkansas,  and  Louisiana  are 
sending  great  contingents.  Mere  nearness,  with  a 
taste  for  personal  adventure,  causes  the  southern 
border  element  to  brave  the  overland  journey. 
The  northwestern  overland  travellers  are  more 
cautious.  They  have  longer  roads  to  drag  over. 
They  come  prepared  for  farming  or  trade,  as  well  as 
rude  mining.  As  soon  as  the  two  lines  of  Eastern 
steamers  are  established,  the  Eastern  and  Middle 
States  send  heavy  reinforcements.  They  are  largely 
traders  or  permanent  settlers.  From  the  first  day, 
the  ambitious,  overbearing  men  of  the  slave  States 
take  the  lead  in  politics.  They  look  to  the  exten 
sion  of  their  gloomy  "  institution,"  negro  slavery. 

Valois  keeps  much  to  himself.  Resolutely  he 
saves  his  golden  gleanings.  He  avoids  the  gam 
bling  tables  and  dance-houses.  Joe  Woods  works 
like  a  horse,  from  mere  acquisitiveness.  He  fondly 
looks  back  to  a  certain  farm  in  Missouri,  where  he 
would  fain  squire  it  when  rich.  Public  rumor  an 
nounces  the  great  hegira  of  gold  seekers.  The  rush 
begins.  Horse  stealing,  quarrels  over  claims,  per 
sonal  encounters,  rum's  lunacy,  and  warring  opinion 
cause  frequent  bloody  affrays. 

Already  scattered  mounds  rudely  marked  prove 
the  reign  of  grim  King  Death.  His  dark  empire 
stretches  even  here  unstayed,  unchallenged.  Win 
ter  approaches  ;  its  floods  drive  the  miners  out  of 
the  river  beds.  Joe  Woods  has  aggregated  several 
Pike  County  souls,  whose  claims  adjoin  those  of 
the  two  young  associates.  Wishing  to  open  com 
munication  with  Judge  Valois  at  Belle  Etoile,  Max- 
ime  ceases  work.  He  must  recruit  for  hardships  of 


LAGUNITAS.  89 

the  next  season.  He  leaves  all  in  the  hands  of 
"  partner  Joe,"  who  prefers  to  camp  with  his  friends, 
now  the  "  Missouri  Company."  Valois  is  welcome 
at  the  Mission  Dolores.  He  can  there  safely  deposit 
his  splendid  savings. 

Provided  with  ample  funds  of  gold  dust,  in  heavy 
buckskin  sacks,  to  send  up  winter  supplies,  Valois 
secures  his  half  of  the  profits.  It  is  in  rudely  sealed 
tin  cans  of  solid  gold  dust.  He  is  well  armed  and 
in  good  company.  He  gladly  leaves  the  human  bee 
hive  by  the  terrific  gorges  of  the  American  River. 
He  has  now  learned  every  trick  of  the  mines.  By 
pack  train  his  treasure  moves  down  to  Sacramento. 
Well  mounted,  Maxime  is  the  companion  of  a  score 
of  similarly  fortunate  returning  miners.  Name, 
nationality,  and  previous  history  of  these  free  lances 
of  fortune  have  been  dropped,  like  Christian's  bun 
dle,  on  climbing  these  hills.  Every  man  can  choose 
for  himself  a  new  life  here,  under  the  spicy  breezes 
of  the  Sierras.  He  is  a  law  unto  himself. 

The  young  gold  hunter  sees,  amazed,  a  canton 
ment  of  ten  thousand  people  at  the  bay.  He  safely 
conveys  his  treasure  to  the  priests  at  the  mission. 
They  are  shaken  from  slumber  of  their  religious 
routine  by  eager  Argonauts.  Letters  from  Padre 
Francisco  at  Lagunitas  prove  the  formation  of 
bands  of  predatory  Mexicans.  These  native  Califor- 
nians  and  Indian  vagabonds  are  driving  away  un 
guarded  stock.  They  mount  their  fierce  banditti 
on  the  humbled  Don's  best  horses.  Coast  and  valley 
are  now  deserted  and  ungoverned.  The  mad  rush 
for  gold  has  led  the  men  northward. 

No  one  dreams  as  yet  of  the  great  Blue  Cement 


90  LAGUNITAS. 

lead,  which,  from  Sierra  to  Mariposa,  is  to  unbosom 
three  hundred  millions  from  the  beds  of  the  old, 
covered  geologic  rivers.  Ten  thousand  scratch  in 
river  bank  and  bed  for  surface  gold.  Priest  and 
layman,  would-be  scientist  and  embryo  experts,  ig 
nore  the  yellow  threaded  quartz  veins  buttressing 
the  great  Sierras.  He  would  be  a  madman  now 
who  would  think  that  five  hundred  millions  will  be 
pounded  out  of  the  rusty  rocks  of  these  California 
hills  in  less  than  a  score  of  years. 

The  toilers  have  no  curiosity  as  to  the  origin  or 
mother  veins  of  the  precious  metal  sought. 

Maxime  Valois  sits  under  the  red-tiled  porches 
of  the  mission  in  January,  1849.  He  has  despatched 
his  first  safe  consignment  of  letters  to  Belle  Etoile. 
He  little  cares  for  the  events  which  have  thrown 
the  exhaustless  metal  belt  of  the  great  West  into  the 
reserve  assets  of  the  United  States.  He  knows  not 
it  is  destined  within  fifty  years  to  be  the  richest  land 
in  the  world.  The  dark  schemes  of  slavery's. lord- 
like  statesmen  have  swept  these  vast  areas  into  our 
map.  The  plotters  have  ignored  the  future  colossal 
returns  of  gold,  silver,  copper,  and  lead. 

Not  an  American  has  yet  caught  the  real  value 
of  the  world's  most  extensive  forests  of  pine  and 
redwood.  They  clothe  these  western  slopes  with 
graceful,  unmutilated  pageantry  of  green. 

Fisheries  and  fields  which  promise  great  gains 
are  passed  unnoticed.  It  is  a  mere  pushing  out  of 
boundary  lines,  under  the  political  aggression  of  the 
South. 

Even  Benton,  cheering  the  departing  thousands 
westward,  grumbles  in  the  Senate  of  the  United 


LAGUNITAS.  QI 

States,  on  January  26,  1840.  As  the  official  news  of 
the  gold  discoveries  is  imparted,  the  wise  senators 
are  blind  in  the  sunlight  of  this  prosperity.  "  I 
regret  that  we  have  these  mines  in  California," 
Benton  says;  "  but  they  are  there,  and  I  am  in  favor 
of  getting  rid  of  them  as  soon  as  possible."  Wise 
senator ! 

Neither  a  prophet  nor  the  son  of  a  prophet  is  he. 
He  cannot  see  that  these  slighted  mines  in  the  fut 
ure  will  be  the  means  of  sustaining  our  country's 
credit  in  a  great  war.  This  gold  and  silver  will 
insure  the  construction  of  the  overland  railroads. 
The  West  and  Northwest,  sealed  to  the  Union  by 
bands  of  steel,  will  be  the  mainstay  of  the  land. 
They  will  equalize  a  broader,  grander  Union  than 
he  ever  dreamed  of. 

Benton  little  thinks  he  has  found  the  real  solution 
of  the  wearying  strife  of  North  and  South.  Turn 
ing  the  surplus  population  of  these  bitterly  opposed 
sections  to  the  unpeopled  West  solves  the  prob 
lem.  His  son-in-law,  Governor  Fremont,  has  been 
a  future  peacemaker  as  well  as  a  bold  pathfinder. 
For  it  is  on  the  track  of  Fremont  that  thousands 
are  now  tramping  west. '  Their  wheels  are  bearing 
the  household  gods.  Civilization  to  be  is  on  the 
move.  Gold  draws  these  crowds.  The  gulfs  of  the 
Carribean,  even  the  lonely  straits  of  Magellan  and 
the  far  Pacific,  are  furrowed  now  by  keels  seeking 
the  happy  land  where  plentiful  gold  awaits  every 
daring  adventurer.  Martinet  military  governors 
cannot  control  this  embryo  empire.  Already  in 
Congress  bills  are  introduced  to  admit  California 
into  the  Union.  A  rising  golden  star  glitters  in 


Q2  LAGUNITAS. 

the  West ;  it  is  soon  to  gild  the  flag  of  the  Union 
with  a  richer  radiance. 

Great  leaders  of  the  sovereign  people  struggle  at 
Washington  in  keen  debate,  inspired  by  the  hostile 
sections  of  the  Union.  They  quarrel  over  the  slav 
ery  interests  in  the  great  West.  Keen  Tom  Corwin, 
loyal  Dix,  astute  Giddings,  Douglass  the  little 
giant,  and  David  Wilmot  fight  freedom's  battle  with 
the  great  apostle  of  State  rights,  Calhoun.  He  is 
supported  by  President  Polk,  the  facile  Secretary  of 
State  Buchanan,  and  that  dark  Mississippi  man  of 
destiny,  Jefferson  Davis.  The  fiery  Foote  and  all 
the  ardent  knights  of  the  day  champion  the  sunny 
South.  Godlike  Daniel  Webster  pours  forth  for 
freedom  some  of  his  greatest  utterances.  William 
H.  Seward,  prophet,  seer,  statesman,  and  patriot, 
with  noble  inspirations  cheers  on  freedom's  army. 
Who  shall  own  bright  California,  the  bond  or  the 
free  ?  While  these  great  knights  of  our  country's 
round  table  fight  in  the  tourney  of  the  Senate  over 
this  golden  prize,  Benton  sends  back  the  "  path 
finder  "  Fremont.  He  is  now  freed  from  the  army 
by  an  indignant  resignation.  He  bears  a  letter  to 
Benton's  friends  in  the  West  to  organize  the  civil 
community  and  prepare  a  constitution. 

While  Valois  watches  for  news,  the  buds  and 
blossoms  of  early  spring  call  him  back  to  the 
American  River.  The  bay  whitens  with  the  sails  of 
arriving  thousands.  Political  combinations  begin 
everywhere.  Two  years  have  made  Fremont,  Kear 
ney,  Colonel  Mason,  General  P.  F.  Smith,  and  Gen 
eral  Bennett  Riley  temporary  military  governors. 
Maxime  leaves  with  ample  stores  ;  he  rejoins  the 


LAGUNITAS.  93 

"  Missouri  Company,"  already  reaping  the  golden 
harvest  of  the  golden  spring. 

Sage  counsel  reaches  him  from  Padre  Francisco. 
He  hears  with  delight  of  the  youth's  success  in  the 
mines.  The  French  missionary,  with  a  natural  love 
of  the  soil,  advises  Valois  to  buy  lands  as  soon  as 
good  titles  can  be  had. 

The  Mexican  War  ends  in  glory  to  the  once  de 
spised  Gringos.  Already  the  broad  grants  of  the 
Dons  are  coveted  by  the  officials  of  the  military  re 
gency.  Several  of  the  officers  have  already  served 
themselves  better  than  their  country.  The  entan 
glements  of  a  new  rule  amount  to  practical  confisca 
tion  of  the  lands  of  the  old  chieftains.  What  they 
saved  from  the  conqueror  is  destined  later  to  fatten 
greedy  lawyers. 

The  spoliated  Church  is  avenged  upon  the  heirs 
of  those  who  worked  its  temporal  ruin.  For  here, 
while  mad  thousands  delve  for  the  gold  of  their 
desire,  the  tramping  feet  of  uncontrolled  hosts  are 
heard  at  the  gates  of  the  Sierras.  When  the  fleets 
give  out  their  hordes  of  male  and  female  adven 
turers,  there  is  no  law  but  that  of  force  or  duplicity ; 
no  principle  but  self-interest.  Virtue,  worth,  and 
desert  meekly  bow  to  strength.  Wealth  in  its  rudest 
form  of  sacks  of  uncoined  gold  dust  rules  the  hour. 

The  spring  days  lengthen  into  summer.  Maxime 
Valois  recoils  from  the  physical  toil  of  the  rocky 
bars  of  the  American.  His  nature  i.s  aristocratic ; 
his  youthful  prejudices  are  averse  to  hand  work. 
Menial  attendance,  though  only  upon  himself,  is 
degrading  to  him.  The  rough  life  of  the  mines 
becomes  unbearable.  A  Southerner,  par  excellence, 


94  LAGUNITAS. 

in  his  hatred  of  the  physical  familiarity  of  others, 
he  avails  himself  of  his  good  fortune  to  find  a  pur 
chaser  for  his  interests.  The  stream  of  new  arrivals 
is  a  river  now,  for  the  old  emigrant  road  of  Platte 
and  Humboldt  is  delivering  an  unending  human  cur 
rent.  Past  the  eastern  frontier  towns  of  Missouri, 
the  serpentine  trains  drag  steadily  west  ;  their  camp 
fires  glitter  from  "  St.  Joe  "  to  Fort  Bridger  ;  they 
shine  on  the  summit  lakes  of  the  Sierras,  where 
Donner's  party,  beset  in  deepest  snows,  died  in 
starvation.  They  were  a  type  of  the  human  sacri 
fices  of  the  overland  passage.  Skeletons  dot  the 
plains  now. 

By  flood  and  desert,  under  the  stroke  of  disease, 
by  the  Indian  tomahawk  and  arrow,  with  every 
varied  accident  and  mishap,  grim  Death  has  taken 
his  ample  toll  along  three  thousand  miles.  Sioux 
and  Cheyenne,  Ute  and  Blackfoot,  wily  Mormon, 
and  every  lurking  foe  have  preyed  as  human 
beasts  on  the  caravans.  These  human  fiends  emu 
late  the  prairie  wolf  and  the  terrific  grizzly  in  thirst 
for  blood. 

The  gray  sands  of  the  burning  Colorado  desert 
are  whitening  with  the  bones  of  many  who  escaped 
Comanche  and  Apacne  scalping  knives,  only  to  die 
of  fatigue. 

By  every  avenue  the  crowd  pours  in.  Valois 
has  extended  his  acquaintance  with  the  leading 
miners.  He  is  aware  of  the  political  organization 
about  to  be  effected.  He  has  now  about  forty 
thousand  dollars  as  his  share  of  gold  dust.  An 
offer  of  thirty  thousand  more  for  his  claim  decides 
him  to  go  to  San  Francisco.  He  is  fairly  rich. 


LAGUNITAS.  95 

With  that  fund  he  can,  as  soon  as  titles  settle,  buy 
a  broad  rancho.  His  active  mind  suggests  the 
future  values  of  the  building  lots  in  the  growing 
city. 

He  completes  the  rude  formalities  of  his  sale, 
which  consist  of  signing  a  bill  of  sale  of  his  mining 
claim,  and  receiving  the  price  roughly  weighed  out 
in  gold.  He  hears  that  a  convention  is  soon  to  or 
ganize  the  State.  On  September  i,  1849,  at  Monte 
rey,  the  civil  fabric  of  government  will  be  planned 
out. 

Before  he  leaves  he  is  made  a  delegate.  Early 
July,  with  its  tropical  heat,  is  at  hand.  The  camp 
on  the  American  is  agitated  by  the  necessity  of 
some  better  form  of  government.  Among  others, 
Philip  Hardin  of  Mississippi,  a  lawyer  once,  a  rich 
miner  now,  is  named  as  delegate. 

At  Sacramento  a  steamer  is  loaded  to  the  gun 
wales  with  departing  voyagers.  Maxime  meets 
some  of  his  fellow  delegates  already  named.  Among 
them  is  Hardin  of  Mississippi.  Philip  Hardin  is  a 
cool,  resolute,  hard-faced  man  of  forty.  A  lawyer 
of  ability,  he  has  forged  into  prominence  by  sheer 
superiority.  The  young  Creole  is  glad  to  meet 
some  one  who  knows  his  beloved  New  Orleans. 
As  they  glide  past  the  willow-shaded  river  banks, 
the  two  Southerners  become  confidential  over  their 
cigars. 

Valois  learns,  with  surprise,  that  President  Polk 
sent  the  polished  Slidell  confidentially  to  Mexico  in 
1846,  and  offered  several  millions  for  a  cession  of 
California.  He  also  wanted  a  quit-claim  to  Texas. 
This  juggling  occurred  before  General  Taylor 


96  LAGUNITAS. 

opened  the  campaign  on  the  Rio  Grande.  In  con 
fidential  relations  with  Sidell,  Hardin  pushed  over 
to  California  as  soon  as  the  result  of  the  war  was 
evident.  Ambitious  and  far-seeing,  Philip  Hardin 
unfolds  the  cherished  plan  of  extending  slavery  to 
the  West.  It  must  rule  below  the  line  of  the  thirty- 
sixth  parallel.  Hardin  is  an  Aaron  Burr  in  persua 
siveness.  By  the  time  the  new  friends  reach  San 
Francisco,  Maxime  has  found  his  political  mentor. 
Ambition  spurs  him  on. 

Wonders  burst  upon  their  eyes.  Streets,  business 
houses  and  hotels,  dwellings  and  gaudy  places  of 
resort,  are  spread  over  the  rolling  slopes.  Valois 
has  written  his  friends  at  the  mission  to  hold  his 
letters.  He  hastens  away  to  deposit  his  treasures 
and  gain  news  of  the  old  home  in  the  magnolia  land. 

Hardin  has  the  promise  of  the  young  Louisianian 
to  accompany  him  to  Monterey.  A  preliminary 
conference  of  the  southern  element  in  the  conven 
tion  is  arranged.  They  must  give  the  embryo 
State  a  pro-slavery  constitution.  He  busies  himself 
with  gaining  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  already 
forming  cabals.  Power  is  to  be  parcelled  out, 
places  are  to  be  filled.  The  haughty  Mississippian 
cares  more  for  this  excitement  than  digging  for 
mere  inert  treasure.  His  quick  eye  catches  Cali 
fornia's  splendid  golden  star  in  the  national  con 
stellation. 

Valois  finds  he  must  wait  the  expected  letters. 
He  decides  to  take  no  steps  as  to  investment  until 
the  civil  power  is  stable. 

With  a  good  mustang  he  rides  the  peninsula 
thoroughly.  He  visits  the  old  Presidio  on  the  out- 


LAGUNITAS.  97 

skirts  of  the  growing  city.  He  rides  far  over  the 
pass  of  Lake  Merced,  to  where  the  broken  gap  in 
the  coast  hills  leaves  a  natural  causeway  for  the 
railway  of  the  future. 

Philip  Hardin,  fisher  of  men,  is  keeping  open 
house  near  the  plaza.  Already  his  rooms  are  the 
headquarters  of  the  fiery  chivalry  of  the  South. 
Day  by  day  Valois  admires  the  self-assertion  of  the 
imperious  lawyer.  The  Mississippian  has  already 
plotted  out  the  situation.  He  is  concert  with  leaders 
like  himself,  who  are  looking  up  and  drawing  in 
their  forces  for  the  struggle  at  the  convention. 

Valois  becomes  familiar  with  the  heads  of  the 
Northern  opposition.  Able  and  sturdy  chiefs  are 
already  marshalling  the  men  who  come  from  the 
lands  of  the  northern  pine  to  meet  in  the  peace 
ful  political  arena  the  champions  of  the  palmetto 
land.  Maxime's  enthusiasm  mounts.  The  young 
Southerner  feels  the  pride  of  his  race  burning  in 
his  veins. 

In  his  evening  hours,  under  the  oaks  of  the  Mis 
sion  Dolores,  he  bears  to  the  calm  priests  his 
budget  of  port  and  town.  He  tells  of  the  new 
marvellous  mines,  of  the  influx  of  gold  hunters. 
He  cannot  withhold  his  astonishment  that  the 
priesthood  should  not  have  discovered  the  gold 
deposits.  The  astute  clergy  inform  him  calmly  that 
for  years  their  inner  circles  have  known  of  con 
siderable  gold  in  the  possession  of  the  Indians.  It 
was  a  hope  of  the  Church  that  some  fortunate  turn 
of  Mexican  politics  might  have  restored  their  sway. 
Alas!  It  was  shattered  in  1834  by  the  relentless 
Hi  jar. 


98  LAGUNITAS. 

"  Hijo  mio  !  "  says  an  old  padre.  "  We  knew  since 
1838  that  gold  was  dug  at  Franscisquita  caflon  in 
the  south.  If  we  had  the  old  blessed  days  of 
Church  rule,  we  could  have  quietly  controlled  this 
great  treasure  field.  But  this  is  now  the  land  of 
rapine  and  adventure.  First,  the  old  pearl-fishers 
in  the  gulf  of  California ;  then  the  pirates  lurking 
along  the  coast,  watching  the  Philippine  galleons. 
When  your  Americans  overran  Texas,  and  com 
menced  to  pour  over  the  plains  here,  we  knew  all 
was  lost.  Your  people  have  fought  a  needless  war 
with  Mexico ;  now  they  are  swarming  in  here — a 
godless  race,  followed  by  outcasts  of  the  whole  of 
Europe.  There  is  no  law  here  but  the  knife  and 
pistol.  Your  hordes  now  arriving  have  but  one 
god  alone — gold." 

The  saddened  old  padre  sighs  as  he  gathers  his 
breviary  and  beads,  seeking  his  lonely  cloister.  He 
is  a  spectre  of  a  day  that  is  done. 


CHAPTER    VI. 
LIGHTING  FREEDOM'S  WESTERN  LAMP. 

BUSTLING  crowds  confuse  Valois  when  he  rides 
through  San  Francisco  next  day.  One  year's  Yan 
kee  dominion  shows  a  progress  greater  than  the 
two  hundred  and  forty-six  years  of  Spanish  and 
Mexican  ownership.  The  period  since  Viscaino's 
sails  glittered  off  Point  Reyes  has  been  only  stagna 
tion. 

Seventy-three  years'  droning  along  under  mission 


LAGUNITAS. 


99 


rule  has  ended  in  vain  repetition  of  spiritual  adjura 
tions  to  the  dullard  Indians.  To-day  hammer  and 
saw,  the  shouts  of  command,  the  din  of  trade,  the 
ships  of  all  nations,  and  the  whistle,  tell  of  the  new 
era  of  work.  The  steam  engine  is  here.  The  age 
of  faith  is  past.  "  Laborare  est  orare"is  the  new 
motto.  Adios,  siesta!  Enter,  speculation. 

Dreamy-eyed  senoritas  in  amazement  watch  the 
growing  town.  Hundreds  are  throwing  the  drifted 
sand  dunes  into  the  shallow  bay  to  create  level 
frontage.  Swarthy  riders  growl  a  curse  as  they  see 
the  lines  of  city  lot  fences  stretching  toward  the 
Presidio,  mission,  and  potrero. 

Inventive  Americans  live  on  hulks  and  flats, 
anchored  over  water  lots.  The  tide  ebbs  and  flows, 
yet  deep  enough  to  drown  the  proprietors  on  their 
own  tracts,  purchased  at  auction  of  the  alcalde  as 
"water  lots." 

Water  lots,  indeed  !  Twenty  years  will  see  these 
water  lots  half  a  mile  inland. 

Masonry  palaces  will  find  foundations  far  out 
beyond  where  the  old  Cyane  now  lies.  Her  grin 
ning  ports  hold  Uncle  Sam's  hushed  thunder-bolts. 
It  is  the  downfall  of  the  old  regime. 

Shed,  tent,  house,  barrack,  hut,  dug-out,  ship's 
cabin — everything  which  will  cover  a  head  from  the 
salt  night  fog  is  in  service.  The  Mexican  adobe 
house  disappears.  Pretentious  hotels  and  store 
houses  are  quickly  run  up  in  wood.  The  mails  are 
taking  orders  to  the  East  for  completed  houses  to 
come  "  around  the  Horn."  Sheet-iron  buildings  are 
brought  from  England.  A  cut  stone  granite  bank 
arrives  in  blocks  from  far-off  China. 


IOO  LAGUNITAS. 

Vessels  with  flour  from  Chile,  goods  from  Austra 
lia,  and  supplies  from  New  York  and  Boston  bring 
machinery  and  tools.  Flour,  saw,  and  grist  mills 
are  provided.  Every  luxury  is  already  on  the  way 
from  Liverpool,  Bordeaux,  Havre,  Hamburg,  Genoa, 
and  Glasgow.  These  vessels  bring  swarms  of  natives 
of  every  clime.  They  hasten  to  a  land  where  all  are 
on  an  equal  footing  of  open  adventure,  a  land  where 
gold  is  under  every  foot. 

Without  class,  aristocracy,  history,  or  social  past, 
California's  "  golden  days  "  are  of  the  future. 

Strange  that  in  thirty  years'  residence  of  the  sly 
Muscovites  at  Fort  Ross,  in  the  long,  idle  leisure  of 
the  employees  of  the  Hudson  Bay  station  at  Yerba 
Buena  Cove  from  1836  to  1846,  even  with  the 
astute  Swiss  Captain  Sutter  at  New  Helvetia,  all  ca 
pacities  of  the  fruitful  land  have  been  so  strangely 
ignored. 

The  slumber  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  is  over. 
Frenchman,  Russian,  Englishman,  what  opiate's 
drowsy  charms  dulled  your  eager  eyes  so  long  here? 
Thousands  of  miles  of  virgin  lands,  countless 
millions  of  treasures,  royal  forests  and  hills  yet  to 
grow  under  harvest  of  olive  and  vine — all  this  the 
mole-like  eyes  of  the  olden  days  have  never  seen. 

Even  the  Mormons  acted  with  the  supine  igno 
rance  of  the  foreigners.  They  scorned  to  pick  this 
jewel  up.  Judicious  Brigham  Young  from  the 
Great  Salt  Lake  finally  sends  emissaries  to  spy 
and  report.  Like  the  wind  his  swift  messengers 
go  east  to  divert  strong  battalions  of  the  Mormon 
converts  from  Europe,  under  trusted  leaders,  to 
San  Francisco.  Can  he  extend  his  self-built  empire 


LAGUNITAS.  IOI 

to  the  Pacific  Slope  ?  Brigham  may  be  a  new 
Mahomet,  a  newer  Napoleon,  for  he  has  the  genius 
of  both. 

Alas  !  when  the  Mormon  bands  arrive,  Sam  Bran- 
nard,  their  leader,  abandons  the  new  creed  of  "  Mor 
mon  "  for  the  newer  creed  of  "  Mammon."  He  be 
comes  a  mercantile  giant.  The  disciples  scatter  as 
gold-seekers.  California  is  lost  to  the  Mormons. 
Even  so  !  Fate,  providence,  destiny,  or  some  cold 
evolution  of  necessary  order,  draws  up  the  blue  cur 
tains  of  the  West.  It  pins  them  to  our  country's 
flag  with  a  new,  glittering  star,  "  California." 

With  eager  interest  Valois  joins  Philip  Hardin. 
There  is  a  social  fever  in  the  air.  His  friends  are 
all  statesmen  in  this  chrysalis  of  territorial  develop 
ment.  They  are  old  hands  at  political  intrigue. 
They  would  modestly  be  senators,  governors,  and 
rulers.  They  would  cheerfully  serve  a  grateful 
State. 

A  band  of  sturdy  cavaliers,  they  ride  out,  down 
the  bay  shores.  They  cross  the  Santa  Clara  and 
Salinas  valleys  toward  Monterey. 

Valois'  easy  means  enable  him  to  be  a  leader  of 
the  movement.  It  is  to  give  a  constitution  and  laws 
to  the  embryo  State. 

Hardy  men  from  the  West  and  South  are  taking 
up  lands.  Cool  traders  are  buying  great  tracts. 
Temporary  officials  have  eager  eyes  fixed  on  the 
Mexican  grants.  At  all  the  landings  and  along  the 
new  roads,  once  trails,  little  settlements  are  spring 
ing  up,  for  your  unlucky  argonaut  turns  to  the 
nearest  avocation  ;  inns,  stables,  lodging-houses  and 
trading-tents  are  waited  on  by  men  of  every  calling 


102  LAGUNITAS. 

and  profession.  Each  wanderer  turns  to  the  easiest 
way  of  amassing  wealth.  The  settlers  must  devise 
all  their  own  institutions.  The  Mexicans  idly 
wrap  their  scrapes  around  them,  and  they  avoid  all 
contact  with  the  hated  foreigner.  Beyond  watch 
ing  their  flocks  and  herds,  they  take  no  part  in  the 
energetic  development.  Cigarito  in  mouth,  card 
playing  or  watching  the  sports  of  the  mounted 
cavaliers  are  their  occupations.  Dismounted  in 
future  years,  these  queer  equestrian  natures  have 
never  learned  to  fight  the  battle  of  life  on  foot. 
The  law  of  absorption  has  taken  their  sad,  swarthy 
visages  out  of  the  social  arena. 

The  cavalcade. of  Southerners  sweeps  over  the 
alamedas.  They  dash  across  the  Salinas  and  up  to 
wooded  Monterey.  There  the  first  constitutional 
convention  assembles. 

Their  delighted  eyes  have  rested  on  the  lovely 
Santa  Cruz  mountains,  the  glorious  meadows  of 
Santa  Clara,  and  the  great  sapphire  bay  of  Mon 
terey.  The  rich  Pajaro  and  Salinas  valleys  lie  wait 
ing  at  hand.  Thinking  also  of  the  wondrous  wealth 
of  the  Sacramento  and  San  Joaquin,  of  the  tropical 
glories  of  Los  Angeles,  Philip  Hardin  cries  :  "  Gen 
tlemen,  this  splendid  land  is  for  us!  We  must  rule 
this  new  State  !  We  must  be  true  to  the  South  !  " 

To  be  in  weal  and  woe  "true  to  the  South"  is 
close  to  the  heart  of  every  cavalier  in  Philip  Har- 
din's  train. 

The  train  arrives  at  Monterey,  swelled  by  others 
faithful  to  that  Southern  Cross  yet  to  glitter  on 
dark  fields  of  future  battle. 

The  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo  closed  a  bloody 


LAGUNITAS.  1 03 

conflict  on  February  2,  1848.  It  is  the  preamble  to 
a  long  struggle.  It  is  destined  in  the  West  to  be 
bloodless  until  the  fatal  guns  trained  on  Fort  Sum- 
ter  bellow  out  their  challenge  to  the  great  Civil 
War.  It  is  only  then  the  mighty  pine  will  swing 
with  a  crash  against  the  palm. 

Hardin  knows  that  recruits,  true  of  blood,  are 
hastening  to  the  new  land  of  El  Dorado.  As  he 
leads  his  dauntless  followers  into  Monterey  his  soul 
is  high.  He  sees  the  beloved  South  sweeping  in 
victory  westward  as  proudly  as  her  legions  rolled 
over  the  fields  of  Monterey  and  Buena  Vista. 

The  convention  assembles.  All  classes  are  repre 
sented  on  September  I,  1849.  The  first  legal  civil 
body  is  convoked  west  of  the  Rockies.  Men  of 
thought  are  here.  Men  destined  to  be  world- 
famous  in  the  unknown  future.  Settlers,  hidalgos, 
traders,  argonauts,  government  officials  of  army  and 
navy,  and  transient  adventurers  of  no  mean  ability. 
A  little  press  already  works  with  its  magical  talk 
ing  types.  A  navy  chaplain  is  the  Franklin  of  the 
West.  Some  order  and  decorum  appear.  The 
calm  voice  of  prayer  is  heard.  The  mingled  amens 
of  the  conquerors  thank  God  for  a  most  unjustifi 
able  acquisition  of  the  lands  of  others.  They  are 
ours  only  by  the  right  of  the  strong  against  the 
weak — the  world's  oldest  title. 

The  South  leads  in  representative  men.  Ready 
to  second  the  secret  desires  of  Polk,  Buchanan,  and 
Calhoun  is  the  astute  and  courtly  Gwin,  yet  to  be 
senator,  duke  of  Sonora,  and  Nestor  of  his  clan. 
Moore  of  Florida,  Jones  of  Louisiana,  Botts,  Bur 
nett,  and  others  are  in  line.  On  the  Northern  side  are 


104  LAGUNITAS. 

Shannon,  an  adopted  citizen;  wise  Halleck;  polished 
McDougall  ;  gifted  Edward  Gilbert,  and  other  dis 
tinguished  men — men  worthy  of  the  day  and  hour. 

As  independent  members,  Sutter,  General  Val- 
lejo,  Thomas  O.  Larkin,  Dr.  Semple,  Wright,  Has 
tings,  Brown,  McCarver,  Rodman  S.  Price,  Snyder, 
and  others  lend  their  aid.  From  the  first  day  the 
advocates  of  slavery  and  freedom  battle  in  oratori 
cal  storm.  The  forensic  conflict  rages  for  days; 
first  on  the  matter  of  freedom,  finally  on  that  of 
boundary. 

Freedom's  hosts  receive  a  glorious  reinforcement 
in  the  arrival  of  John  C.  Fremont. 

After  bitter  struggles  the  convention  casts  the 
die  for  freedom.  The  Constitution  of  the  State  is 
so  adopted.  While  the  publicists,  led  by  Fremont 
and  Gwin,  seek  to  raise  the  fabric  of  state,  the 
traders  and  adventurers,  the  hosts  of  miners  spring 
ing  to  life  under  the  chance  touch  of  James  W. 
Marshall's  finger,  on  January  24,  1848,  are  delving 
or  trading  for  gold. 

Poor,  ill-starred  Marshall  !  He  wanders  luckless 
among  the  golden  fields.  He  gains  no  wealth.  He 
toils  as  yet,  unthinking  of  his  days  of  old  age  and 
lonely  poverty.  He  does  not  look  forward  to  being 
poor  at  seventy-three  years,  and  dying  in  1885  alone. 
The  bronze  monument  over  his  later  grave  attests 
no  fruition  of  his  hopes.  It  only  can  show  the 
warm-hearted  gratitude  of  children  yet  unborn,  the 
Native  Sons  of  the  Golden  West.  Cool  old  border 
ers  like  Peter  Lassen,  John  Bidwell,  P.  B.  Redding, 
Jacob  P.  Leese,  Wm.  B.  Ide,  Captain  Richardson, 
and  others  are  grasping  broad  lands  as  fair  as  the 


LAGUNITAS.  105 

banks  of  Yarrow.  They  permit  the  ill-assorted 
delegates  to  lay  down  rules  for  the  present  and 
laws  for  the  future.  The  State  can  take  care  of 
itself.  Property-holders  appear  and  aid.  Hensley, 
Henley,  Bartlett,  and  others  are  cool  and  able. 
While  the  Dons  are  solemnly  complimented  in  the 
convention,  their  rights  are  gracefully  ignored. 

The  military  governor,  General  Bennett  Riley, 
stands  back.  He  justly  does  not  throw  his  sword 
into  the  scales.  Around  him  are  rising  men  yet  to 
be  heroes  on  a  grander  field  of  action  than  the  mud 
floors  of  a  Monterey  adobe.  William  T.  Sherman, 
the  only  Northern  American  strategist,  is  a  lieu 
tenant  of  artillery.  Halleck,  destined  to  be  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  a  million  men,  is  only  a  captain 
of  engineers  and  acting  Secretary  of  State.  Grace 
ful,  unfortunate,  accomplished  Charles  P.  Stone  is  a 
staff  officer.  Ball's  Bluff  and  Fort  Lafayette  are  far 
in  the  misty  unknown. 

The  convention  adjourns  sine  die  on  October  13, 
1849.  ^  ^as  settled  the  great  point  of  freedom  on 
the  Pacific  Coast.  It  throws  out  the  granite  Sierras 
as  an  eternal  bulwark  against  advancing  slavery. 
The  black  shame  is  doomed  never  to  cross  the 
Rockies,  arid  yet  the  great  struggle  for  the  born 
nobility  of  manhood  has  been  led  by  Shannon,  an 
alien  Irishman.  The  proudest  American  blood  fol 
lowed  Dr.  Gwin's  pro-slavery  leading.  The  two 
senators  named  are  Gwin  and  the  hitherto  unre 
warded  Fremont.  Wright  and  Gilbert  are  the  two 
congressmen.  Honest  Peter  H.  Burnett,  on  Novem 
ber  13,  is  elected  the  first  governor  of  California. 
He  is  chosen  by  the  peaple,  and  destined  to  live  to 


106  LAGUNITAS. 

see  nearly  fifty  years  of  peaceful  prosperity  on  the 
golden  coast. 

While  this  struggle  is  being  waged  on  the  Pacific, 
at  Washington  the  giant  statesmen  of  those  famous 
ante-bellum  days  close  in  bitter  strife.  The  polit 
ical  future  of  the  great  West,  now  known  to  be  so 
rich,  is  undecided.  It  is  the  desperate  desire  of 
the  South  to  keep  California  out  of  the  Union, 
unless  the  part  falling  under  the  Wilmot  proviso 
act  south  of  36°  30'  is  given  to  slavery. 

The  national  funds  to  pay  for  the  "  Gadsden  pur 
chase"  will  be  withheld  unless  slavery  can  be  ex 
tended.  The  great  struggle  brings  out  all  the  olden 
heroes  of  the  political  arena.  Benton,  Webster, 
Clay,  Calhoun,  Davis,  King,  Sam  Houston,  Foote, 
Seward,  John  Bell,  and  Douglas,  are  given  a  golden 
prize  to  tourney  for.  In  that  .press  of  good  knights, 
many  a  hard  blow  is  struck.  The  victor  and  van 
quished  stand  to-day,  looming  gigantic  on  the  dim. 
horizon  of  the  past.  It  is  the  dark  before  the  dawn 
of  the  War  of  the  Rebellion. 

It  was  before  these  days  of  degenerated  citizen 
ship,  when  the  rising  tide  of  gold  floats  the  corrupt 
millionnaire  and  syndicate's  agent  into  the  Senate. 
The  senator's  toga  then  wrapped  the  shoulders  of 
our  greatest  men.  No  bonanza  agents — huge  moral 
deformities  of  heaped-up  gold — were  made  senato 
rial  hunchbacks  by  their  accidental  millions. 

No  vulgar  clowns  dallied  with  the  country's  inter 
ests  in  those  old  days  when  Greek  met  Greek.  It 
was  a  gigantic  duel  of  six  leaders  :  Webster,  Seward, 
and  Clay,  pitted  against  Calhoun,  Davis,  and  Foote. 
Pausing  to  refresh  their  strength  for  the  final  strug- 


LAGUNITAS. 

gle,  the  noise  of  battle  rolled  away  until  the  early 
days  of  1850.  California  was  kept  out. 

The  delegates  at  Monterey  hastened  home  to 
their  exciting  callings.  Philip  Hardin  saw  the 
wished-for  victory  of  the  South  deferred.  Gnash 
ing  his  teeth  in  rage,  he  rode  out  of  Monterey. 
Maxime  Valois  now  is  the  ardent  "  Faust  "  to  whom 
he  plays  "  Mephisto."  His  following  had  fallen  away. 
Hardin,  cold,  profound,  and  deep,  was  misunder 
stood  at  the  Convention.  He  wished  to  gain  local 
control.  He  knew  the  overmastering  power  of  the 
pro-slavery  administration  would  handle  the  main 
issue  later — if  not  in  peace,  then  in  war. 

As  the  red-tiled  roofs  of  Monterey  fade  behind 
them,  Hardin  unbosoms  himself  to  his  young  com 
rade.  Maxime  Valois  has  been  a  notable  leader  in 
the  Convention.  He  was  eager  and  loyal  to  the 
South.  He  extended  many  acquaintances  with  the 
proud  chivalry  element  of  the  new  State.  His  short 
experience  of  public  life  feeds  his  rising  ambition. 
He  determines  to  follow  the  law  ;  the  glorious  pro 
fession  which  he  laid  aside  to  become  a  pathfinder; 
the  pathway  to  every  civic  honor. 

"Valois,"  says  Hardin,  "these  people  are  too 
short-sighted.  Our  Convention  leaders  are  failures. 
We  should  have  ignored  the  slavery  fight  as  yet. 
Thousands  of  Southern  voters  are  coming  to  us 
within  six  months  from  the  border  States.  Our 
friends  from  the  Gulf  are  swarming  here.  The 
President  will  fill  all  the  Federal  offices  with  sound 
Southern  Democrats.  The  army  and  navy  will  be 
in*  sympathy  with  us.  With  a  little  management 
we  could  have  got  slavery  as  far  as  36°  30'.  We 


108  LAGUNITAS. 

could  work  it  all  over  the  West  with  the  power  of 
our  party  at  the  North.  We  could  have  controlled 
the  rest  of  this  coast  by  the  Federal  patronage, 
keeping  the  free  part  out  of  the  Union  as  territo 
ries.  Then  our  balance  of  power  would  be  stable. 
It  is  not  a  lost  game.  Wait !  only  wait  !  " 

Maxime  agrees.  Philip  Hardin  opens  the  young 
politician's  eyes  with  a  great  confidence. 

"  Maxime,  I  have  learned  to  like  you  and  depend 
on  you.  I  will  give  you  a  proof  of  it.  We  of  the 
old  school  are  determined  to  rule  this  country.  If 
Congress  admits  California  as  a  free  State,  there  will 
yet  be  a  Lone  Star  republic  covering  this  whole 
coast.  The  South  will  take  it  by  force  when  we  go 
out." 

The  Louisianian  exclaims,  "  Secession!" 

"  Yes,  war  even.  Rather  war  than  the  rule  of  the 
Northern  mud-sill !  "  cries  Hardin,  spurring  his  horse, 
instinctively.  "  Our  leading  men  at  home  are  in 
thorough  concert  day  by  day.  If  the  issue  is  forced 
on  us  the  whole  South  will  surely  go  out.  But  we 
are  not  ready  yet.  Maxime,  we  want  our  share  of 
this  great  West.  We  will  fill  it  with  at  least  even 
numbers  of  Southern  men.  In  the  next  few  years 
the  West  will  be  entirely  neutral  in  case  of  war  or 
unless  we  get  a  fair  division.  If  we  reelect  a  Derno- 
crat  as  President  we  will  save  the  whole  West." 

"War,"  muses  Valois,  as  they  canter  down  the 
rich  slopes  toward  the  Salinas  River,  "  a  war  between 
the  men  who  have  pressed  up  Cerro  Gordo  and  Che- 
pultepec  together  !  A  war  between  the  descend 
ants  of  the  victorious  brothers  of  the  Revolution  !  " 
It  seems  cold  and  brutal  to  the  young  and  ardent 


LAGUNITAS.  109 

Louisianian.  An  American  civil  war!  The  very 
idea  seems  unnatural.  "  But  will  the  Yankees 
fight?"  queries  Valois.  Hardin  replies  grimly:  "I 
did  not  think  we  would  even  be  opposed  in  this 
Convention.  They  seemed  to  fight  us  pretty  well 
here.  They  may  fight  in  the  field — when  it 
comes." 

For  Philip  Hardin  is  a  wise  man.  He  never 
under-estimates  his  untried  enemy. 

Valois  smiles.  He  cannot  control  a  sneer.  The 
men  who  are  lumber-hewers,  dirt-diggers,  cod-fishers 
and  factory  operatives  will  never  face  the  South 
ern  chivalry.  He  despises  the  sneaking  Yankees. 
Traders  in  a  small  way  arouse  all  the  arrogance 
of  the  planter.  He  cannot  bring  any  philosophy 
of  the  past  to  tell  him  that  the  straining,  leaky 
Mayflower  was  the  pioneer  of  the  stately  Amer 
ican  fleets  now  swarming  on  every  sea.  The  little 
wandering  Boston  bark,  Otter,  in  1/96  found  her 
way  to  California.  She  was  the  harbinger  of  a 
mighty  future  marine  control.  The  lumbering  old 
Sachem  (of  the  same  Yankee  borough)  in  1822 
founded  the  Pacific  hide  and  tallow  trade  as  an  ear 
nest  of  the  sea  control.  Where  one  Yankee  shows 
the  way  thousands  may  follow,  yet  this  Valois  ig 
nored  in  his  scorn  of  the  man  who  works. 

Maxime  could  not  dream  that  the  day  could  ever 
come  when  thousands  of  Yankees  would  swarm 
over  entrenchments,  vainly  held  by  the  best  blood 
of  the  sunny  South. 

As  the  two  gentlemen  ride  on,  Hardin  uses  the 
confidential  loneliness  of  the  trip  to  prove  to  the 
Creole  that  war  and  separation  must  finally  come. 


1 10  LAGUNITAS. 

"  We  want  this  rich  land  for  ourselves  and  the 
South."  The  young  man's  blood  was  up. 

"  I  know  the  very  place  I  want !  "  cries  Valois. 

He  tells  Hardin  of  Lagunitas,  of  its  fertile  lands 
sweeping  to  the  San  Joaquin.  He  speaks  of  its 
grassy,  rolling  hills  and  virgin  woods. 

Philip  Hardin  learns  of  the  dashing  waters  of  the 
Merced  and  Mariposa  on  either  side.  He  hears  of 
the  glittering  gem-like  Lagunitas  sparkling  in  the 
bosom  of  the  foot-hills.  Valois  recounts  the  wild 
legends,  caught  up  from  priest  and  Indian,  of  that 
great,  terrific  gorge,  the  Yosemite.  Hardin  allows 
much  for  the  young  man's  wild  fancy.  The  gigan 
tic  groves  of  the  big  trees  are  only  vaguely  de 
scribed.  Yet  he  is  thrilled. 

He  has  already  seen  an  emigrant  who  wandered 
past  Mono  Lake  over  the  great  Mono  notch  in  the 
Sierras.  There  it  rises  eleven  thousand  feet  above 
the  blue  Pacific — with  Castle  Dome  and  Cathedral 
Peak,  grim  sentinels  towering  to  the  zenith. 

"  It  must  really  be  a  paradise,"  muses  Hardin. 

"  It  is,"  cries  the  Creole;  "  I  intend  to  watch  that 
region.  If  money  can  make  it  mine,  I  will  toil  to 
get  it." 

Philip  Hardin,  looking  through  half-closed  eyes 
at  Valois,  decides  to  follow  closely  this  dashing  ad 
venturer.  He  will  go  far. 

"  Valois,"  he  slowly  says,  "  you  have  seen  these 
native  land-barons  at  the  Convention.  A  few  came 
in  to  join  us.  The  rest  are  hostile  and  bitter.  They 
can  never  stand  before  us.  The  whole  truth  is,  the 
Mexican  must  go  !  We  stopped  the  war  a  little  too 
soon  here.  They  are  now  protected  by  the  treaty, 


LAGUNITAS.  1 1 1 

but  we  will  litigate  them  out  of  all  their  grants. 
Keep  your  eye  on  Lagunitas.  It  may  come  into 
the  market.  Gold  will  be  the  fool's  beacon  here 
for  some  time.  These  great  valleys  will  yet  be  the 
real  wealth  of  the  new  State.  Land  is  the  rock  of 
the  wealth  to  come.  Get  land,  my  boy  !  "  he  cries, 
with  the  lordly  planter's  instinct. 

Valois  admires  the  cold  self-confidence  of  the  sar- 
domc  Hardin.  He  opens  his  heart.  He  leans  upon 
the  resolute  Mississippian. 

It  takes  little  to  make  Maxime  joyfully  accept 
Philip  Hardin's  invitation  to  share  his  office.  They 
will  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  city  by  the  Golden 
Gates. 

On  riding  down  the  Visitacion  valley  their  eyes 
are  greeted  with  the  sight  of  the  first  ocean 
steamers.  A  thousand  new-comers  throng  the 
streets. 

Maximo  finds  a  home  in  the  abode  of  Hardin.  His 
cottage  stands  on  a  commanding  lot,  bought  some 
time  before. 

Letters  from  "  Belle  Etoile "  delight  the  wan 
derer.  He  learns  of  the  well-being  of  his  friends. 
Judge  Valois'  advice  to  Maxime  decides  him  to  cast 
his  lot  in  with  the  new  State.  It  is  soon  to  be  called 
California  by  legal  admission. 

Philip  Hardin  is  a  leader  of  the  embryo  bar  of 
the  city.  Courts,  books,  two  newspapers  and  the 
elements  of  a  mercantile  community  are  the  new 
est  signs  of  a  rapid  crystallization  toward  order. 
With  magic  strides  the  boundaries  of  San  Fran 
cisco  enlarge.  Every  day  sees  white-winged  sails 
fluttering.  Higher  rises  the  human  tumult.  From 


112  LAGUNITAS. 

the  interior  mines,  excited  reports  carry  away  half 
the  arrivals.  They  are  eager  to  scoop  up  the  nug 
gets,  to  gather  the  golden  dust.  New  signs  attract 
the  eye  :  "  Bank,"  "  Hotel,"  "  Merchandise,"  "  Real 
Estate."  Every  craft  and  trade  is  represented.  It 
is  the  vision  of  a  night. 

Already  a  leader,  Hardin  daily  extends  his  influ 
ence  as  man,  politician,  and  counsellor. 

The  great  game  is  being  played  at  the  nation's 
capita]  for  the  last  sanction  to  the  baptism  of  'the 
new  star  in  the  flag. 

California  stands  knocking  at  the  gates  of  the 
Union,  with  treasure-laden  hands.  In  Congress  the 
final  struggle  on  admission  drags  wearily  on.  Vic 
torious  Sam  Houston  of  Texas,  seconded  by  Jeffer 
son  Davis,  fresh  laurelled  from  Buena  Vista,  urges 
the  claims  of  slavery.  Foote  "  modestly  "  demands 
half  of  California,  with  a  new  slave  State  cut  out 
from  the  heart  of  blood-bought  Texas.  But  the 
silver  voice  of  Henry  Clay  peals  out  against  any 
extension  of  slave  territory.  Proud  King  of  Ala 
bama  appeals  in  vain  to  his  brethren  of  the  Senate 
to  discipline  the  two  ambitious  freemen  of  the 
West,  by  keeping  them  out  of  the  Union. 

Great  men  rally  to  the  bugle  notes  of  their 
mighty  leaders. 

The  gallant  son  of  the  South,  General  Taylor, 
finds  presidential  honors  following  his  victories. 
In  formal  message  he  announces  on  February  13, 
1850,  to  Congress  that  the  new  State  waits,  with 
every  detail  of  first  organization,  for  admission. 

Stern  Calhoun,  chief  of  the  aspiring  Southern 
ers,  proudly  claims  a  readjustment  of  the  sectional 


LAGUNITAS.  113 

equality  thus  menaced.  Who  shall  dare  to  lift  the 
gauntlet  thrown  down  by  South  Carolina's  mighty 
chieftain  ? 

In  the  hush  of  a  listening  Senate,  Daniel  Web 
ster,  the  lion  of  the  North,  sounds  a  noble  defiance. 
"  Slavery  is  excluded  from  California  by  the  law  of 
nature  itself,"  is  his  warning  admonition. 

With  solemn  brow,  and  deep-set  eyes,  flashing 
with  the  light  of  genius,  he  appeals  to  the  noblest 
impulses  of  the  human  heart.  Breathless  senators 
thrill  with  his  inspired  words.  "  We  would  not  take 
pains  to  reaffirm  an  ordinance  of  nature,"  he  cries, 
and,  as  his  grave  argument  touches  the  listeners, 
he  reverently  adds,  "  nor  to  reenact  the  will  of 
God." 

Mighty  Seward  rises  also  to  throw  great  New 
York's  gauntlet  in  the  teeth  of  slavery. 

Taunted  with  its  legal  constitutional  sanction,  he 
exclaims  grandly,  "  There  is  a  higher  law  than  the 
Constitution." 

Long  years  have  passed  since  both  the  colossus  of 
the  North  and  the  great  Governor  entered  into  the 
unbroken  silence  of  the  grave.  Their  immortal 
words  ring  still  down  the  columned  years  of  our 
country's  history.  They  appeal  to  noble  sons  to  em 
ulate  the  heroes  of  this  great  conflict.  Shall  the 
slave's  chains  clank  westward  ?  No  !  Above  the  din 
of  commoner  men,  the  logic  of  John  Bell,  calm  and 
patriotic,  brings  conviction.  The  soaring  eloquence 
of  Stephen  A.  Douglas  claims  the  Western  shores 
for  freedom. 

Haughty  Foote  and  steadfast  Benton  break 
lances  in  the  arena. 


114  LAGUNITAS. 

Kentucky's  greatest  chieftain,  whose  gallant  son's 
life-blood  reddened  Buena  Vista's  field,  marshals 
the  immortal  defenders  of  human  liberty.  Henry 
Clay's  paternal  hand  is  stretched  forth  in  blessing 
over  the  young  Pacific  commonwealth.  All  vainly 
do  the  knights  of  the  Southern  Cross  rally  around 
mighty  Calhoun,  as  he  sits  high  on  slavery's  awful 
throne. 

Cold  Davis,  fiery  Foote,  ingenious  Slidell,  polished 
and  versatile  Soule",  ardent  King,  fail  to  withstand 
that  mighty  trio,  "  Webster,  Seward,  and  Clay," 
the  immortal  three.  The  death  of  the  soldier- 
President  Taylor  calms  the  clamor  for  a  time.  The 
struggle  shifts  to  the  House.  Patriotic  Vinton,  of 
Ohio,  locks  the  door  on  slavery.  On  the  Qth  day 
of  September,  1850,  President  Millard  Fillmore 
signs  the  bill  which  limits  the  negro  hunter  to  his 
cotton  fields  and  cane  brakes  at  home.  The  repre 
sentatives  of  the  new  State  are  admitted.  A  new 
golden  star  shines  unpolluted  in  the  national  con 
stellation. 

Westward  the  good  news  flies  by  steamer.  All 
the  shadows  on  California's  future  are  lifted. 

While  wearied  statesmen  rest  from  the  bitter 
warfare  of  two  long  years,  from  North  and  South 
thousands  eagerly  rush  to  the  golden  land. 

The  Southern  and  Border  States  send  hosts  of 
their  restless  youths. 

From  the  Northwest  sturdy  freemen,  farmers  with 
families,  toil  toward  new  homes  under  freedom's 
newest  star.  The  East  and  Middle  States  are  rep 
resented  by  all  their  useful  classes. 

The  news  of  California's  admission   finds  Hardin 


LAGUNITAS.  115 

and  Valois  already  men   of  mark  in  the  Occidental 
city. 

Disappointed  at  the  issue,  Hard  in  presses  on  to 
personal  eminence  ;  he  turns  his  energies  to  seeking 
honors  in  the  legal  forum. 

Maxime  Valois,  quietly  resuming  his  studies  for 
the  bar,  guards  his  funds,  awaiting  opportunity  for 
investment.  He  burns  the  midnight  oil  in  deep 
studies.  The  two  men  wander  over  the  growing 
avenues  of  the  Babel  of  the  West.  Every  allure 
ment  of  luxury,  every  scheme  of  vice,  all  the  arts 
of  painted  siren,  glib  knave,  and  lurking  sharper  are 
here  ;  where  the  game  is,  there  the  hunter  follows. 
Rapidly  arriving  steamers  pour  in  hundreds.  The 
camp  followers  of  the  Mexican  war  have  streamed 
over  to  San  Francisco.  The  notable  arrival  of  the 
steamer  California  brings  crowds  of  men,  heirs  to 
future  fame,  and  good  women,  the  moral  salt  of 
the  new  city.  It  also  has  its  New  York  "  Bowery 
Boys,"  Philadelphia  "  Plug  Uglies,"  Baltimore 
"  Roughs,"  and  Albany  "  Strikers." 

By  day,  new  occupations,  strange  callings,  and 
the  labor  of  organizing  a  business  community,  en 
gage  all  men.  The  ebb  and  flow  of  going  and  re 
turning  miners  excite  the  daylight  hours.  From 
long  wharves,  river  steamers,  laden  to  the  gunwales, 
steam  past  the  city  shores  to  Sacramento.  At 
night,  deprived  of  regular  homes,  the  whole  city 
wanders  in  the  streets,  or  crowds  flashy  places  of 
amusement.  Cramped  on  the  hilly  peninsula,  there 
are  no  social  lines  drawn  between  good  and  bad. 
Each  human  being  is  at  sea  in  a  maelstrom  of  wild 
license. 


1 16  LAGUNITAS. 

The  delegated  representatives  of  the  Federal 
Government  soon  arrive.  Power  is  given  largely  to 
the  Southern  element.  While  many  of  the  national 
officials  are  distinguished  and  able,  they  soon  feel 
the  inspiring  madness  of  unrebuked  personal  enjoy 
ment. 

Money  in  rough-made  octagonal  fifty-dollar  slugs 
flows  freely.  Every  counter  has  its  gold-dust  scales. 
Dust  is  current  by  the  ounce,  half  ounce,  and  quar 
ter  ounce.  The  varied  coins  of  the  whole  world 
pass  here  freely.  The  months  roll  away  to  see,  at 
the  end  of  1850,  a  wider  activity;  there  is  even 
a  greater  excitement,  a  more  pronounced  mad 
ness  of  dissipation.  Speculation,  enterprise,  and 
abandonment  of  old  creeds,  scruples,  and  codes, 
mark  the  hour. 

The  flying  year  has  brought  the  ablest  and  most 
daring  moral  refugees  of  the  world  to  these  shores, 
as  well  as  steady  reinforcements  of  worthy  settlers. 
Pouring  over  the  Sierras,  and  dragging  across  the 
deserts,  the  home  builders  are  spreading  in  the 
interior.  The  now  regulated  business  circles,  ex 
tending  with  wonderful  elasticity,  attract  home 
and  foreign  pilgrims  of  character.  Though  the 
Aspasias  of  Paris,  New  Orleans,  and  Australia 
throng  in  ;  though  New  York  sends  its  worthless 
womanhood  in  floods,  there  are  even  now  worthy 
home  circles  by  the  Golden  Gate.  Church,  school, 
and  family  begin  to  build  upon  solid  foundations. 
All  the  government  bureaus  are  in  working  order. 
The  Custom  House  is  already  known  as  the  "  Vir 
ginia  Poor  House."  The  Post-Office  and  all  Federal 
places  teem  with  the  ardent,  haughty,  and  able 


LAGUNITAS.  1 1/ 

ultra  Democrats  of  the  sunny  South.  The  victory 
of  the  Convention  bids  fair  to  be  effaced  in  the 
high-handed  control  of  the  State  by  Southern  men. 

o  » 

As  the  rain  falleth  on  the  just  and  unjust,  so  does 
the  tide  of  prosperity  enrich  both  good  and  bad. 
Vice,  quickly  nourished,  flaunts  its  early  flowers. 
The  slower  growth  of  virtue  is  yet  to  give  golden 
harvest  of  gathered  sheaves  in  thousands  of  homes 
yet  to  be  in  the  Golden  State.  Long  after  the 
maddened  wantons  and  noisy  adventurers  have 
gone  the  way  of  all  "  light  flesh  and  corrupt  blood," 
the  homes  will  stand.  Sailing  vessels  stream  in 
from  the  ports  of  the  world.  On  the  narrow  water 
front,  Greek  and  Lascar,  Chinaman  and  Maltese, 
Italian  and  Swede,  Russian  and  Spaniard,  Chileno 
and  Portuguese  jostle  the  men  of  the  East,  South, 
and  the  old  country.  Fiery  French,  steady  German, 
and  hot-headed  Irish  are  all  here,  members  of  the 
new  empire  by  the  golden  baptism  of  the  time. 

Knife  and  revolver,  billy  and  slung-shot,  dirk  and 
poniard,  decide  the  argumentum  ad  hominem. 

In  the  enjoyment  of  fraternal  relations  with  the 
leaders  of  the  dominant  party  East,  Philip  Hardin 
becomes  a  trusted  counsellor  of  the  leading  officials. 
He  sees  the  forum  of  justice  opened  in  the  name  of 
Union  and  State.  He  ministers  at  the  altars  of  the 
Law.  He  gains,  daily,  renown  and  riches  in  his  able 
conduct  of  affairs. 

Hardin's  revenue  rises.  He  despises  one  of  the 
State  judgeships  easily  at  his  hand.  As  his  star 
mounts,  his  young  neophyte,  Maxime  Valois,  shares 
his  toils  and  enjoys  his  training.  Under  his  guid 
ance  he  launches  out  on  the  sea  of  that  professional 


Il8  LAGUNITAS. 

legal  activity,  which  is  one  continued  storm  of  con 
tention. 

Valois  has  trusted  none  of  the  mushroom  banks. 
He  keeps  his  gold  with  the  Padres.  He  makes  a 
number  of  judicious  purchases  of  blocks  and  lots  in 
the  city,  now  growing  into  stable  brick,  stone,  and 
even  iron. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  EL  DORADO. — GUILTY  BONDS. 

IN  the  dreary  winter  of  1850-51,  there  are  luxuri 
ous  resting  places  for  the  crowds  driven  at  night 
from  the  narrow  plank  sidewalks  of  the  Bay  City. 
Rain  torrents  make  the  great  saloons  and  gambling 
houses  the  only  available  shelter. 

Running  east  and  west,  Sacramento,  Clay,  Wash 
ington,  and  Jackson  Streets  rise  in  almost  impracti 
cable  declivity  to  the  hills.  Their  tops,  now  inac 
cessible,  are  to  be  the  future  eyries  of  self-crowned 
railroad  nobs  and  rude  bonanza  barons. 

Scrubby  chaparral,  tenanted  by  the  coyote,  fox, 
and  sand  rabbit,  covers  these  fringing  sand  hills. 
North  and  south,  Sansome,  Montgomery,  Kearney, 
Dupont,  Stockton,  and  a  faint  outline  of  Powell 
Street,  are  roadways  more  or  less  inchoate.  An 
embryo  western  Paris. 

Around  the  plaza.,  bounded  by  Clay,  Washington, 
Dupont,  and  Kearney,  the  revelry  of  night  crystal 
lizes.  It  is  the  aggregating  sympathy  of  birds  of  a 
feather. 

The  peculiar  unconquered  topography  makes  the 


LAGUNITAS.  1 19 

handcart,  wheelbarrow,  and  even  the  Chinaman's 
carrying  poles,  necessary  vehicles  of  transit. 

Water,  brought  in  iron  boats  from  Sansalito,  is 
dragged  around  these  knobby  hills  in  huge  casks  on 
wheels.  The  precious  fluid  is  distributed  in  five- 
gallon  tin  buckets,  borne  on  a  yoke  by  the  dealer, 
who  gets  a  dollar  for  two  bucketfuls.  No  one  finds 
time  to  dig  for  water.  All  have  leisure  to  drink, 
dance,  and  gamble.  They  face  every  disease,  dan 
ger,  and  hardship.  They  breast  the  grizzly-bear- 
haunted  canons  in  search  of  gold.  No  one  will  seek 
for  water.  It  is  the  only  luxury.  The  incoming 
and  outgoing  merchandise  moves  only  a  few  rods 
from  the  narrow  level  city  front.  At  the  long 
wharves  it  is  transshipped  from  the  deep-water 
vessels,  across  forty  feet  of  crazy  wooden  pier,  to 
the  river  steamers.  Lighters  in  the  stream  transfer 
goods  to  the  smaller  vessels  beginning  to  trade  up 
and  down  the  coast. 

In  the  plaza,  now  dignified  by  the  raffing  name 
of  "  Portsmouth  Square,"  the  red  banners  of  vice 
wave  triumphant  over  great  citadels  of  sin.  Virtue 
is  pushed  to  the  distant  heights  and  knolls.  The 
arriving  families,  for  sheer  self-protection,  avoid  this 
devil's  maelstrom.  It  sucks  the  wide  crowd  into 
the  maddened  nightly  orgies  of  the  plaza. 

In  the  most  pretentious  buildings  of  the  town, 
the  great  trinity  of  unlawful  pleasures  holds  high 
carnival.  Day  and  night  are  the  same  :  drink,  gam 
ing,  and  women  are  worshipped.  For  the  aver 
age  resident  there  is  no  barrier  of  old  which  has 
not  been  burned  away  in  the  fever  of  personal 
freedom  and  the  flood  of  gold. 


120  LAGUNITAS. 

A  motley  mass  of  twenty  thousand  men  and 
women  daily  augments.  They  are  all  of  full  capac 
ity  for  good  and  evil.  They  are  bound  by  no  com 
mon  ties.  They  serve  no  god  bu.t  pleasure.  They 
fear  no  code.  With  no  intention  to  remain  longer 
than  the  profit  of  their  adventures  or  the  pleas 
ures  of  their  wild  life  last,  they  catch  the  passing 
moment. 

Immense  saloons  are  made  attractive  by  displays 
of  gaudy  luxuries,  set  out  to  tempt  the  purses 
of  the  self-made  autocrats  of  wealth.  Gambling 
houses  here  are  outvying  in  richness,  and  utter 
wantonness  of  wasted  expense,  anything  yet  seen 
in  America.  They  are  open  always.  Haunts 
abound  where,  in  the  pretended  seclusion  of  a  few 
yards'  distance,  rich  adventurers  riot  with  the  beau 
tiful  battalions  of  the  fallen  angels.  It  were  gross 
profanation  to  the  baleful  memories  of  Phryne, 
Aspasia,  and  Messalina  to  find,  from  all  the  sin- 
stained  leaves  of  the  world's  past,  prototypes  of 
these  bold,  reckless  man-eaters.  They  throng  the 
softly  carpeted,  richly  tapestried  interiors  of  the 
gilded  hells  of  Venus. 

Drink  and  play.  Twins  steeds  of  the  devil's  car 
on  the  road  to  ruin.  They  are  lashed  on  by  wild- 
eyed,  bright,  beautiful  demons.  All  follow  the 
train  of  the  modern  reigning  star  of  the  West, 
Venus. 

Shabby  dance-halls,  ephemeral  Thespian  efforts, 
cheap  dens  of  the  most  brutal  vice,  and  dark  lairs 
abound,  where  sailors,  laborers,  and  crowding  crimi 
nals  lurk,  ready  for  their  human  prey.  Their  female 
accomplices  are  only  the  sirens  watching  these 


LAGUNITAS.  121 

great  strongholds  of  brazen  vice.  A  greater  luxury 
only  gilds  a  lower  form  of  human  abasement.  The 
motley  horde,  wallowing  on  the  "  Barbary  Coast  " 
and  in  the  mongrel  thieves'  haunts  of  "  Pacific 
Street,"  the  entrenched  human  devils  on  "  Tele 
graph  Hill "  are  but  natural  prey  of  the  coarsest 
vices. 

The  ready  revolver,  Colt's  devilish  invention,  has 
deluged  the  West  and  South  with  blood.  Murder's 
/prime  minister  hangs  in  every  man's  belt.  Colonel 
James  Bowie's  awful  knife  is  a  twin  of  this  mon 
strous  birth.  In  long  years  of  dark  national  shame 
our  country  will  curse  the  memory  of  the  "  two 
Colonels."  They  were  typical  of  their  different  sec 
tional  ideas.  These  men  gave  us  the  present  coat 
of  arms  of  San  Francisco :  the  Colt's  revolver  and 
the  Bowie  knife. 

Yes,  thousands  of  yet  untenanted  graves  yawn 
for  the  future  victims^of  these  mechanical  devices. 
The  skill  of  the  Northern  inventor,  and  the  devilish 
perfection  of  the  heart-cleaving  blade  of  the  South 
ern  duellist  are  a  shame  to  this  wild  age. 

The  plaza  with  impartial  liberality  yields  up  its 
frontages  to  saloon,  palace  of  play,  and  hotels  for 
the  fair  ministers  of  His  Satanic  Majesty.  It  is 
the  pride  of  the  enterprising  "  sports  "  and  "  sharp 
ers,"  who  represent  the  baccalaureate  degree  of 
every  known  vice.  On  the  west,  the  "  Adelphi  " 
towers,  with  its  grand  gambling  saloon,  its  splendid 
"  salle  a  manger,"  and  cosey  nooks  presided  over 
by  attractive  Frenchwomen.  Long  tables,  under 
crystal  chandeliers,  offer  a  choice  of  roads  to  ruin. 
Monte,  faro,  rouge  et  noir,  roulette,  rondo  and 


122  LAGUNITAS. 

every  gambling  device  are  here,  to  lure  the  unwary. 
Dark-eyed  subtle  attendants  lurk,  ready  to  "  pre 
serve  order/'  in  gambling  parlance.  At  night,  blaz 
ing  with  lights,  the  superb  erotic  pictures  on  the 
walls  look  down  on  a  mad  crowd  of  desperate  game 
sters.  Paris  has  sent  its  most  suggestive  pictures 
here,  to  inflame  the  wildest  of  human  passions. 
Nymph  and  satyr  gleam  from  glittering  walls. 
Venus  approves  with  melting  glances,  from  costliest 
frames,  the  self-immolation  of  these  dupes  of  for 
tune.  Every  wanton  grace  of  the  artist  throws  a 
luxurious  refinement  of  the  ideal  over  the  palace 
of  sin  and  shame. 

Long  counters,  with  splendid  mirrors,  display 
richest  plate.  They  groan  with  costliest  glass, 
and  every  dark  beverage  from  hell's  hottest  brew. 
Card  tables,  and  quiet  recesses,  richly  curtained, 
invite  to  self-surrender  and  seclusion.  The  softest 
music  breathes  from  a  full  orchestra.  Gold  is 
everywhere,  in  slugs,  doubloons,  and  heaps  of  nug 
gets.  Gold  reigns  here.  Silver  is  a  meaner  metal 
hardly  attainable.  Bank  notes  are  a  flimsy  possi 
bility  of  the  future.  Piles  of  yellow  sovereigns  and 
the  coinage  of  every  land  load  the  tables.  Sallow, 
glittering-eyed  croupiers  sweep  in,  with  affected 
nonchalance,  this  easy-gained  harvest  of  chance  or 
fraud. 

As  the  evening  wears  on,  these  halls  fill  up  with 
young  and  old.  The  bright  face  of  youth  is  seen, 
inflamed  with  every  burning  passion,  let  loose  in 
the  wild  uncontrolled  West.  It  is  side  by  side  with 
the  haggard  visage  of  the  veteran  gamester.  Every 
race  has  its  representatives.  The  possession  of 


LAGUNITAS.  123 

gold  is  the  cachet  of  good-fellowship.  Anxious 
crowds  criticise  rapid  and  dashing  play.  The  rattle 
of  dice,  calls  of  the  dealers,  shouts  of  the  attendants 
ring  out.  The  sharp,  hard,  ringing  voices  of  the 
fallen  goddesses  of  the  tables  rise  on  the  stifling  air, 
reeking  of  smoke  and  wine.  Dressed  with  the  spoils 
of  the  East,  bare  of  bosom,  bright  of  eye,  hard  of 
heart,  glittering  in  flashing  gems,  and  nerved  with 
drink,  are  these  women.  The  painted  sirens  of  the 
Adelphi  smile,  with  curled  carmine  lips  which  give 
the  lie  to  the  bold  glances  of  the  wary  eyes  of  those 
she-devils. 

With  a  hideous  past  thrown  far  behind  them, 
they  fear  no  future.  Desperate  as  to  the  present, 
ministering  to  sin,  inciting  to  violence,  conspiring 
to  destroy  body  and  soul,  these  beautiful  annihila- 
tors  of  all  decency  vie  in  deviltry  only  with  each 
other. 

They  flaunt,  by  day,  toilettes  like  duchesses'  over 
the  muddy  streets  ;  their  midnight  revels  outlast 
the  stars  sweeping  to  the  pure  bosom  of  the  Pacific. 
The  nightly  net  is  drawn  till  no  casting  brings 
new  gudgeons.  An  unparalleled  display  of  wildest 
license  and  maddest  abandonment  marks  day  and 
night. 

Across  the  square  the  Bella  Union  boasts  similar 
glories,  equal  grandeur,  and  its  own  local  divinities 
of  the  Lampsacene  goddess. 

It  is  but  a  stone's  throw  to  the  great  Arcade. 
From  Clay  to  Commercial  Street,  one  grand  room 
offers  every  allurement  to  hundreds,  without  any 
sign  of  overcrowding.  The  devil  is  not  in  narrow 
quarters. 


124  LAGUNITAS. 

On  the  eastern  front  of  the  plaza,  the  pride  of 
San  Francisco  towers  up  :  the  El  Dorado.  Here 
every  glory  of  the  Adelphi,  Arcade,  and  Bella  Union 
is  eclipsed.  The  unrivalled  splendor  of  rooms,  rich 
decorations,  and  unexcelled  beauty  of  pictures 
excite  all.  The  rare  liveliness  of  the  attendant 
wantons  marks  them  as  the  fairest  daughters  of 
Beelzebub.  The  world  waves  have  stranded  these 
children  of  Venus  on  the  Pacific  shores.  Music, 
recalling  the  genius  of  the  inspired  masters,  sways 
the  varying  emotions  of  the  multitude.  The  miners' 
evenings  are  given  up  to  roaming  from  one  resort 
to  another.  Here,  a  certain  varnish  of  necessary 
politeness  restrains  the  throng  of  men  ;  they  are  all 
armed  and  in  the  flush  of  physical  power  ;  they  dash 
their  thousands  against  impregnable  and  exciting 
gambling  combinations  at  the  tables.  With  no  feel 
ing  of  self-abasement,  leading  officials,  merchants, 
bankers,  judges,  officers,  and  professional  men 
crowd  the  royal  El  Dorado.  Here  they  relax  the 
labors  of  the  day  with  every  distraction  known  to 
human  dissipation. 

Staggering  out  broken-hearted,  in  the  dark  mid 
night,  dozens  of  ruined  gamesters  have  wandered 
from  these  fatal  doors  into  the  plaza.  The  nearest 
alley  gives  a  shelter;  a  pistol  ball  crashes  into  the 
half-crazed  brain. 

Suicide! — the  gambler's  end!  Already  the  Pot 
ter's  Field  claims  many  of  these  victims.  The  suc 
cessful  murderers  and  thugs  linger  in  the  dark 
shadows  of  Dupont  Street.  They  crowd  Murderer's 
Alley,  Dunbar's  Alley,  and  Kearney  Street. 

When  the  purse  is  emptied,  so  that  the  calculat- 


LAGUNITAS,  125 

ing  women  dealers  scorn  to  notice  the  last  few 
coins,  they  point  significantly  to  the  outer  dark 
ness.  "Vamos,"  is  the  word.  A  few  rods  will  bring 
the  plucked  fool  to  the  "  Blue  Wing,"  the  "  Mag 
nolia,"  or  any  one  of  a  hundred  drinking  dens. 
Here  the  bottle  chases  away  all  memories  of  the 
night's  play. 

In  utter  defiance  of  the  decent  community, 
these  temples  of  pleasure,  with  their  quick-witted 
knaves,  and  garrisons  of  bright-eyed  bacchanals, 
ignore  the  useful  day ;  at  night,  they  shine  out, 
splendid  lighthouses  on  the  path  to  the  dark  en 
trance  of  hell.  By  mutual  avoidance,  the  good  and 
bad,  the  bright  and  dark  side  of  human  effort  rule 
in  alternation  the  day  and  night.  Sin  rests  in  the 
daytime. 

In  the  barracks,  where  the  serried  battalions  of 
crime  loll  away  the  garish  day,  silence  discreetly 
rules.  Sleep  and  rest  mark  the  sunlit  hours.  The 
late  afternoon  parade  is  an  excitant. 

All  over  San  Francisco,  in  its  queerly  assorted 
tenancy,  church  and  saloon,  school  and  opium  den, 
thieves'  resort  and  budding  home,  are  placed  side 
by  side.  Vigorous  elbowing  of  the  criminal  and 
base  classes  finally  forces  all  that  is  decent  into  a 
semi-banishment.  Decency  is  driven  to  the  distant 
hills,  crowned  with  their  scrubby  oaks.  Vice  needs 
the  city  centre.  It  always  does. 

Philip  Hardin  is  cynical  and  without  family  ties. 
Able  by  nature,  skilled  in  books,  and  a  master  of 
human  strategy  he  needs  some  broader  field  for  the 
sweep  of  his  splendid  talents  than  the  narrowed 
forum  of  the  local  courts.  Ambition  offers  no  im- 


126  LAGUNITASc 

mediate  prize  to  struggle  for.  The  busy  present 
calls  on  him  for  daily  professional  effort.  Political 
events  point  to  an  exciting  struggle  between  North 
and  South  in  the  future ;  but  the  hour  of  fate  is  not 
yet  on  the  dial. 

In  the  Southerner's  dislike  of  the  contact  of 
others,  looking  to  his  place  as  a  social  leader  of 
the  political  element,  Philip  Hardin  lives  alone ;  his 
temporary  cottage  is  planted  in  a  large  lot  removed 
from  the  immediate  danger  of  fires.  His  quick  wit 
tells  him  they  will  some  day  sweep  the  crowded 
houses  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city,  as  far  as  the 
bay.  The  larger  native  oaks  still  afford  a  genial 
shade.  Their  shadows  give  the  tired  lawyer  a  few 
square  rods  of  breathing  space.  Books  and  all  the 
implements  of  the  scholar  are  his  ;  the  interior  is 
crowded  with  those  luxuries  which  Hardin  enjoys  as 
of  right.  Deeply  drinking  the  cup  of  life,  even  in 
his  social  vices,  Philip  Hardin  aims  at  a  certain 
distinction. 

Around  his  table  gather  the  choicest  knights- 
errant  of  the  golden  quest.  Maxime  Valois  here 
develops  a  social  talent  as  a  leader  of  men,  guided 
by  the  sardonic  Mephisto  of  his  young  life. 

Still  the  evening  hours  hang  heavily  on  the  hands 
of  the  two  lawyers.  When  the  rapidly  arriving 
steamers  bring  friends,  with  letters  or  introductions, 
they  have  hospitality  to  dispense.  The  great  lead 
ers  of  the  South  are  now  systematically  colonizing 
California.  Guests  abound  at  these  times  at  Har- 
din's  board.  Travel,  mining,  exploration,  and  ad 
venture  carry  them  away  soon  ;  extensive  tours 
on  official  duty  draw  them  away.  As  occupations 


LAGUNITAS.  I2/ 

increase,  men  grow  unmindful  of  each  other  and 
meet  more  rarely. 

For  the  saloons,  rude  hotels,  gaming  palaces,  and 
resorts  of  covert  pleasures  are  the  usual  rendez 
vous  of  the  men  of  fortune  and  power.  In  such 
resorts  grave  intrigues  are  planned ;  future  policies 
are  mapped  out;  business  goes  on  under  the  laugh 
ter  of  wild-eyed  Maenads  ;  secrets  of  state  are 
whispered  between  glass  and  glass. 

Family  circles,  cooped  up,  timid  and  distant, 
keep  their  doors  closed  to  the  general  public.  No 
one  has  yet  dared  to  permanently  set  up  here  their 
Lares  and  Penates.  The  subordination  of  family 
life  to  externals,  and  insincerity  of  social  compacts, 
are  destined  to  make  California  a  mere  abiding  place 
for  several  generations.  The  fibres  of  ancestry 
must  first  knit  the  living  into  close  communion  with 
their  parents  born  on  these  Western  shores.  Har- 
din's  domineering  nature,  craving  excitement  and 
control  over  others,  carries  him  often  to  the  great 
halls  of  play  ;  cigar  in  mouth,  he  stands  unmoved  ; 
he  watches  the  chances  of  play.  Nerved  with  the 
cognac  he  loves,  he  moves  quickly  to  the  table  ;  he 
astonishes  all  by  the  deliberate  daring  of  his  play. 
His  iron  nerve  is  unshaken  by  the  allurements  of  the 
painted  dancers  and  surrounding  villains.  Tower 
ing  high  above  all  others,  the  gifted  Mississippian 
nightly  refreshes  his  jaded  emotions.  He  revels  in 
the  varying  fortunes  of  the  many  games  he  coolly 
enjoys.  Unheeding  others,  moving  neither  right 
nor  left  at  menace  or  danger,  Hardin  scorns  this 
human  circus,  struggling  far  below  his  own  mental 
height. 


128  LAGUNITAS. 

Heartless  and  unmoved,  he  smiles  at  the  weak 
nesses  of  others.  The  strong  man  led  captive  in 
Beauty's  train,  the  bright  intellect  sinking  under 
the  craze  of  drink,  the  weak  nature  shattered  by  the 
loss  of  a  few  thousands  at  play — all  this  pleases  him. 
He  sees,  with  prophetic  eye,  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  future  dwellers  between  the  Sierras  and  the  sea. 
His  Southern  pride  looks  forward  to  a  control  of 
the  great  West  by  the  haughty  slave-owners. 

This  Northern  trash  must  disappear  !  To  ride  on 
the  top  wave  of  the  future  successful  community,  is 
his  settled  determination.  Without  self-surrender, 
he  enjoys  every  draught  of  pleasure  the  cup  of  life 
can  offer.  Without  scruple,  void  of  enthusiasm,  his 
passionless  heart  is  unmoved  by  the  joys  or  sorrows 
of  others.  His  nature  is  as  steady  as  the  nerve 
with  which  he  guides  his  evening  pistol  practice. 
The  welcome  given  to  Maxime  Valois  by  him  arises 
only  from  a  conviction  of  that  man's  future  useful 
ness.  The  general  acceptability  of  the  young 
Louisianian  is  undoubted.  His  blood,  creed,  and 
manners  prove  him  worthy  of  the  old  Valois  family. 
Their  past  glories  are  well  known  to  Philip  Hardin. 
11  Bon  sang  ne  peut  mentir."  Hardin's  legal  posi 
tion  places  him  high  in  the  turmoils  of  the  litiga 
tions  of  the  great  Mexican  grants.  Already,  over 
the  Sonoma,  Napa,  Santa  Clara,  San  Joaquin  and 
Sacramento  valleys  all  is  in  jeopardy.  The  old  Dons 
begin  to  seek  confirmations  of  the  legal  lines,  to  keep 
the  crowding  settlers  at  bay.  The  mining,  trading, 
and  land-grabbing  of  the  Americans  are  pushed  to 
the  limits  of  the  new  commonwealth.  A  backward 
movement  of  the  poor  Mexican  natives  carries  them 


LAGUNITAS.  1 29 

between  the  Americans  and  the  yet  powerful  land 
barons  of  their  own  race.  Harassed,  unfit  to  work, 
unable  to  cope  with  the  intruders,  the  native  Cali- 
fornians  become  homeless  rovers.  They  are  bitter 
at  heart.  Many,  in  open  resentment,  rise  on  the 
plains  or  haunt  the  lonely  trails.  They  are  now 
bandits,  horse-thieves,  footpads  and  murderers.  True 
to  each  other,  they  establish  a  chain  of  secret  ref 
uges  from  Shasta  to  San  Diego.  Every  marauder 
of  their  own  blood  is  safe  among  them  from  Amer 
ican  pursuers. 

Every  mining  camp  and  all  the  settlements  are 
beginning  to  send  refugees  of  the  male  foreign 
criminal  classes  to  join  these  wandering  Mexican 
bands. 

With  riot  in  the  camps,  licentiousness  ruling  the 
cities,  and  murder  besetting  every  path,  there  is  no 
safety  for  the  present.  California  sees  no  guarantee 
for  the  future.  Judge  Lynch  is  the  only  recognized 
authority.  He  represents  the  rough  justice  of  out 
raged  camps  and  infuriated  citizens.  Unrepressed 
violent  crimes  lead  to  the  retaliatory  butchery  of 
vigilance  committees.  Innocent  and  guilty  suffer 
without  warrant  of  law.  Foreign  criminal  clans 
herd  together  in  San  Francisco  for  mutual  aid.  The 
different  Atlantic  cities  are  separately  represented 
in  knots  of  powerful  villains.  Politics,  gambling, 
and  the  elements  of  wealth  flourishing  in  dens  and 
resorts,  are  controlled  by  organized  villains.  They 
band  together  against  the  good.  Only  some  per 
sonal  brawl  throws  them  against  each  other. 

Looking  at  the  dangerous  mass  of  vicious 
men  and  women,  Valois  determines  that  the  real 


130  LAGUNITAS. 

strength  of  the  land  will  lie  in  the  arrivals  by  the 
overland  caravans.  These  trains  are  now  filling  the 
valleys  with  resolute  and  honest  settlers. 

His  determination  holds  yet  to  acquire  some  large 
tract  of  land  where  he  may  have  a  future  domain. 
On  professional  visits  to  Sacramento,  Stockton,  and 
San  Jose  he  notes  the  rising  of  the  agricultural 
power  in  the  interior.  In  thought  he  yearns  often 
for  the  beauties  of  splendid  Lagunitas.  Padre 
Ribaut  writes  him  of  the  sullen  retirement  of  Don 
Miguel.  He  grows  more  morose  daily.  Valois  learns 
of  the  failing  of  the  sorrow-subdued  Donna  Jua- 
nita.  The  girlish  beauty  of  young  Dolores  is  pic 
tured  in  these  letters.  She  approaches  the  early 
development  of  her  rare  beauty.  Padre  Francisco 
has  his  daily  occupation  in  his  church  and  school. 
The  higher  education  of  pretty  Dolores  is  his  only 
luxury.  Were  it  not  for  this,  he  would  abandon 
the  barren  spiritual  field  and  return  to  France. 
Already  in  the  caftons  of  the  Mariposa,  Fresno,  and 
in  the  great  foot-hills,  miners  are  scratching  around 
the  river  beds.  Hostile  settlers  are  approaching 
from  the  valley  the  Don's  boundaries.  These  signs 
are  ominous. 

Padre  Francisco  writes  that  as  yet  Don  Miguel  is 
sullenly  ferocious.  He  absolutely  refuses  any  sub 
mission  of  his  grant  titles  to  the  cursed  Gringos. 
Padre  Francisco  has  not  been  able  to  convince  the 
ex-commandante  of  the  power  of  the  great  United 
States.  He  knows  not  it  can  cancel  or  reject  his 
title  to  the  thousands  of  rich  acres  where  his  cattle 
graze  and  his  horses  sweep  in  mustang  wildness. 
Even  from  his  very  boundaries  the  plough  can  now 


LAGUNITAS.  13! 

be  seen  breaking  up  the  breast  of  the  virgin  valley. 
The  Don  will  take  no  heed.  He  is  blinded  by 
prejudice.  Maxime  promises  the  good  priest  to 
visit  him.  He  wonders  if  the  savage  Don  would 
decline  a  word.  If  the  frightened,  faded  wife  would 
deign  to  speak  to  the  Americano.  If  the  budding 
beauty  would  now  cast  roses  slyly  at  him  from  the 
bowers  of  her  childhood. 

Maxime's  heart  is  young  and  warm.  He  is  chilled 
in  his  affections.  The  loss  of  his  parents  made  his 
life  lonely.  Judge  Valois,  his  uncle,  has  but  one 
child,  a  boy  born  since  Maxime's  departure  on  the 
Western  adventure.  Between  Hardin  and  himself 
is  a  bar  of  twenty  years  of  cool  experience.  It 
indurates  and  blunts  any  gracefulness  Hardin's 
youth  ever  possessed.  If  any  man  of  forty  has 
gained  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  it  is  the 
accomplished  Hardin.  He  is  a  law  unto  him 
self. 

Fearing  neither  God  nor  man,  insensible  to 
tenderness,  Philip  Hardin  looks  in  vain  to  refresh 
his  jaded  emotions  by  the  every-day  diversions  of 
the  city  by  the  sea.  The  daily  brawls,  the  excited 
vigilance  committee  of  the  first  winter  session  of 
popular  justice,  and  partial  burning  of  the  city,  leave 
Hardin  unmoved.  It  is  a  dismal  March  night  of 
1851  when  he  leaves  his  residence  for  a  stroll 
through  the  resorts  of  the  town.  Valois  listlessly 
accompanies  him.  He  does  not  gamble.  To  the 
El  Dorado  the  two  slowly  saunter.  The  nightly 
battle  over  the  heaps  of  gold  is  at  its  height.  At 
the  superb  marble  counter  they  are  served  with  the 
choicest  beverages  and  regalias  of  Vuelta  Abajos' 


132  LAGUNITAS. 

best  leaf.  The  human  mob  is  dense.  Wailing,  pas 
sionate  music  beats  upon  the  air.  There  is  the  cry 
of  lost  souls  in  its  under-toned  pathos.  Villany  and 
sentiment  go  hand  in  hand  at  the  El  Dorado. 
The  songs  of  old,  in  voice  and  symphony,  unlock 
the  gates  of  memory.  They  leave  the  lingerers, 
disarmed,  to  the  tempting  allurements  of  beauty, 
drink,  and  gaming. 

There  is  an  unusual  crowd  in  the  headquarters  of 
gilded  folly.  Maxime,  wandering  alone  for  a  few 
minutes,  finds  a  throng  around  a  table  of  rouge  et 
noir.  It  is  crowded  with  eager  gamesters.  Nod 
ding  to  one  and  another,  he  meets  many  acquaint 
ances — men  have  no  real  friends  as  yet  in  this 
egoistic  land.  The  Louisianian  moves  toward  the 
goal  whither  all  are  tending.  Jealous  glances  are 
cast  by  women  whose  deserted  tables  show  their 
charms  are  too  well  known.  All  swarm  toward  a 
new  centre  of  attraction.  Cheeks  long  unused  to 
the  blush  of  shame  are  reddened  with  passion,  to 
see  the  fickle  crowd  surge  around  the  game  pre 
sided  over  by  a  new-comer  to  the  sandy  shores  of 
San  Francisco.  She  is  an  unknown  goddess. 

"  What's  all  this?"  asks  Maxime,  of  a  man  he 
knows.  He  is  idling  now,  with  an  amused  smile. 
He  catches  a  glimpse  of  the  tall  form  of  Philip 
Hardin  in  the  front  row  of  players,  near  the  yel 
low  bulwarks  of  gold. 

"  Why,  Valois,  you  are  behind  the  times ! "  is 
the  reply.  "  Don't  you  know  the  '  Queen  of  the  El 
Dorado  '  ?  " 

"I  confess  I  do  not,"  says  the  Creole.  He  has 
been  absent  for  some  time  from  this  resort  of  men 


LAGUNITAS.  133 

with  more  gold  than  brains.  "Who  is  she?  What 
is  she  ?  "  continues  Maxime. 

His  friend  laughs  as  he  gaily  replies,  "  As  to  what 
she  is,  walk  up  to  the  table.  Throw  away  an  ounce, 
and  look  at  her.  It's  worth  it.  As  to  who  she  is, 
she  calls  herself  Hortense  Duval."  "  I  suppose  she 
has  as  much  right  to  call  herself  the  daughter  of  the 
moon  as  to  use  that  aristocratic  name."  "  My  dear 

boy,  she  is,  for  all  that "  "Queen  Hortense?" 

"  Queen  of  the  El  Dorado."  He  saunters  away,  to 
allow  Valois  a  chance  to  edge  his  way  into  the  front 
row.  There  the  dropping  gold  is  raked  in  by  this 
fresh  siren  who  draws  all  men  to  her. 

Dressed  in  robes  of  price,  a  young  woman  sits 
twirling  the  arrow  of  destiny  at  the  treasure-laden 
table.  Her  exquisite  form  is  audaciously  and  reck 
lessly  exposed  by  a  daring  costume.  Her  superb 
arms  are  bared  to  the  shoulder,  save  where  heavy- 
gemmed  bracelets  clasp  glittering  badges  of  sin 
around  her  slender  wrists.  An  indescribable  grace 
and  charm  is  in  every  movement  of  her  sinuous 
body.  Her  well-poised  head  is  set  upon  a  neck  of 
ivory.  The  lustrous  dark  eyes  rove  around  the 
circle  of  eager  betters  with  languishing  velvety 
glances.  A  smile,  half  a  sneer,  lingers  on  the 
curved  lips.  Her  statuesque  beauty  of  feature  is 
enhanced  by  the  rippling  dark  masses  of  hair  crown 
ing  her  lovely  brows.  In  the  silky  waves  of  her 
coronal,  shines  one  diamond  star  of  surpassing 
richness.  In  all  the  pride  and  freshness  of  youth 
her  loveliness  is  unmarred  by  the  tawdry  arts  of 
cosmetic  and  make-up.  Unabashed  by  the  admi 
ration  she  compels,  she  calmly  pursues  her  ex- 


134  LAGUNITAS. 

citing  calling.  The  new-comer  is  well  worthy  the 
rank,  by  general  acclaim,  of  "  Queen  of  the  El  Do 
rado."  In  no  way  does  she  notice  the  eager  crowd. 
She  is  an  impartial  priestess  of  fortune.  Maxime 
waits  only  to  hear  her  speak.  She  is  silent,  save  the 
monosyllabic  French  words  of  the  game.  Is  she 
Cuban,  Creole,  French,  Andalusian,  Italian,  or  a 
wandering  gypsy  star?  A  jewelled  dagger-sheath 
in  her  corsage  speaks  of  Spain  or  Italy.  Maxime 
notes  the  unaccustomed  eagerness  with  which  Har- 
din  recklessly  plays.  He  seems  determined  to  at 
tract  the  especial  attention  of  the  divinity  of  the 
hour.  Hardin's  color  is  unusual.  His  features  are 
sternly  set.  Near  him  stands  "  French  Charlie," 
one  of  the  deadliest  gamesters  of  the  plaza.  Equally 
quick  with  card,  knife,  or  trigger,  the  Creole  gam 
bler  is  a  man  to  be  avoided.  He  is  as  dangerous  as 
the  crouching  panther  in  its  fearful  leap. 

Hardin,  betting  on  black,  seems  to  win  steadily. 
"  French  Charlie  "sets  his  store  of  ready  gold  on 
the  red.  It  is  a  reckless  duel  of  the  two  men 
through  the  medium  of  the  golden  arrow,  twirled 
by  the  voluptuous  stranger. 

A  sudden  idea  strikes  Valois.  He  notes  the 
ominous  sparkle  of  "  French  Charlie's  "  eye.  It  is 
cold  as  the  depths  of  a  mountain-pool.  Is  Hardin 
betting  on  the  black  to  compliment  the  presiding 
dark  beauty?  Murmurs  arise  among  the  bystand 
ers.  The  play  grows  higher.  Valois  moves  away 
from  the  surging  crowd,  to  wait  his  own  opportu 
nity.  A  glass  of  wine  with  a  friend  enables  him 
to  learn  her  history.  She  has  been  pursued  by 
"  French  Charlie  "  since  her  arrival  from  Panama 


LAGUNITAS.  135 

by  steamer.  No  one  knows  if  the  reigning  beauty 
is  Havanese  or  a  French  Creole.  Several  aver  she 
speaks  French  and  Spanish  with  equal  ease.  Eng 
lish  receives  a  dainty  foreign  accent  from  the  rose 
bud  lips.  Her  mysterious  identity  is  guarded  by 
the  delighted  proprietors.  The  riches  of  their  deep- 
jawed  safes  tell  of  her  wonderful  luck,  address,  or 
skill. 

Charlie  has  in  vain  tried  to  cross  the  invisible 
barrier  which  fences  her  from  the  men  around  her. 
To-night  he  is  as  unlucky  in  his  heavy  play,  as  in 
arousing  any  passion  in  that  wonderful  beauty  of 
unexplained  identity.  The  management  will  answer 
no  questions.  This  nightly  excitement  feeds  on 
itself.  "  French  Charlie  "  has  been  drinking  deeply. 
His  play  grows  more  unlucky.  Valois  moves  to  the 
table,  to  quietly  induce  Hardin  to  leave.  Some 
inner  foreboding  tells  Valois  there  is  danger  in  the 
gambling  duel  of  the  two  men  he  watches.  As  he 
forces  his  way  in,  Charlie,  dashing  a  last  handful  of 
gold  upon  the  red,  turns  his  ferocious  eyes  on  Har 
din.  The  lawyer  calmly  waits  the  turn  of  the 
arrow.  Some  quick  presentiment  reaches  the  mind 
of  the  woman.  Her  nerves  are  shaken  with  the 
strain  of  long  repression.  The  arrow  trembles  on 
the  line  in  stopping.  The  queen's  eyes,  for  the 
first  time,  catch  the  burning  glances  of  Philip  Har 
din.  "  French  Charlie,"  with  an  oath,  grasps  the 
hand  of  the  woman.  She  is  raking  in  his  lost  coins 
before  paying  Hardin's  bet.  It  is  his  last  handful 
of  gold. 

Maddened  with  drink  and  his  losses,  Charlie 
yields  to  jealousy  of  his  victorious  neighbor. 


136  LAGUNITAS. 

"  French  Charlie  "  roughly  twists  the  wrist  of  the 
woman.  With  a  sharp  shriek,  she  snatches  the  dag 
ger  from  her  bosom.  She  draws  it  over  the  back 
of  the  gambler's  hand.  He  howls  with  pain.  Like 
a  flash  he  tears  a  knife  from  his  bosom.  He  springs 
around  the  table  toward  the  woman.  With  a  loud 
scream,  she  jumps  back  toward  the  wall.  She 
seeks  to  save  herself,  casting  golden  showers  on  the 
floor,  in  a  rattling  avalanche.  Before  the  ready 
hireling  desperadoes  of  the  haunt  can  seize  Charlie, 
the  affrighted  circle  scatters.  Valois'  eye  catches 
the  flash  of  a  silver-mounted  derringer.  Its  barking 
report  rings  out  as  "  French  Charlie's  "  right  arm 
drops  to  his  side.  His  bowie-knife  falls  ringing  on 
the  floor.  A  despairing  curse  is  heard.  The  Creole 
gambler  snatches,  with  the  other  hand,  a  pistol.  He 
springs  like  a  lion  on  Philip  Hardin.  One  step 
back  Hardin  retreats.  No  word  comes  from  his 
closed  lips.  The  mate  of  the  derringer  rings  out 
loudly  Charlie's  death  warrant.  The  gambler 
crashes  to  the  floor.  His  heart's  blood  floods  the 
scattered  gold.  The  pistol  is  yet  clenched  in  his 
stiffened  left  hand.  Valois  rushes  to  Hardin.  He 
brushes  him  aside,  and  springs  to  the  side  of  the 
"  Queen  of  the  El  Dorado."  She  falls  senseless  in 
his  arms.  In  a  few  moments  the  motley  crowd 
has  been  hurried  from  the  doors.  The  great  en 
trances  are  barred.  The  frightened  women  dealers 
seek  their  dressing-rooms.  All  fear  the  results  of 
this  brawl.  Their  cheeks  are  ashy  pale  under  paint 
and  powder.  The  treasures  are  swiftly  swept  from 
the  gaming  tables  by  the  nimble-witted  croupiers. 
Hardin  and  Valois  are  left  with  the  unconscious 


LAGUN1TAS.  137 

fallen  beauty.  A  couple  of  the  lately  organized 
city  police  enter  and  take  charge.  Even  the  blood 
stained  gold  is  gathered  from  the  floor.  Light  after 
light  is  turned  out.  The  main  hall  has  at  last  no 
tenants  but  the  night  watchman  and  the  police, 
waiting  by  the  dead  gambler.  He  lies  prone  on  the 
floor,  awaiting  his  last  judge,  the  city  coroner.  This 
genial  official  is  sought  from  his  cards  and  cups,  to 
certify  the  causes  of  death  of  the  outcast  of  society. 
A  self-demonstrating  problem.  The  gaping  wound 
tells  its  story. 

Valois  is  speechless  and  stunned  with  the  quick 
ness  of  the  deadly  quarrel.  He  gloomily  watches 
Hardin  supporting  the  fainting  woman.  Slowly  her 
eyes  unclose.  They  meet  Hardin's  in  one  long, 
steadfast,  inscrutable  glance.  She  shudders  and 
says,  "  Take  me  away."  She  covers  her  siren  face 
with  her  jewelled  hands,  to  avoid  the  sight  of  the 
waxy  features  and  stiffening  form  of  the  thing  lying 
there.  Ten  minutes  ago  it  was  the  embodiment  of 
wildest  human  passion  and  tiger-like  activity.  Vale, 
"  French  Charlie." 

Hardin  has  quickly  sent  for  several  influential 
friends.  On  their  arrival  he  is  permitted  to  leave, 
escorted  by  a  policeman.  The  shaken  sorceress, 
whose  fatal  beauty  has  thrown  two  determined  men 
against  each  other  in  a  sudden  duel  to  the  death, 
walks  at  his  side.  There  is  a  bond  of  blood  sealed 
between  them.  It  is  the  mere  sensation  of  a  night ; 
the  talk  of  an  idle  day.  On  the  next  evening 
the  "  El  Dorado  "  is  thronged  with  a  great  multi 
tude.  It  is  eager  to  gaze  on  the  wondrous  woman's 
face,  for  which  "  French  Charlie  "  died.  Their  quest 


138  LAGUNITAS. 

is  vain.  Another  daughter  of  the  Paphian  divinity 
presides  at  the  shrine  of  rouge  et  noir.  The  blood 
stains  are  effaced  from  the  floor.  A  fresh  red 
mound  in  the  city  cemetery  is  the  only  relic  of 
French  Charlie.  Philip  Hardin,  released  upon  heavy 
bail,  awaits  a  farcical  investigation.  After  a  few 
days  he  bears  no  legal  burden  of  this  crime.  Only 
the  easy  load  upon  his  conscience.  Although  the 
mark  of  Cain  sets  up  a  barrier  between  him  and 
his  fellows,  and  the  murder  calls  for  the  vengeance 
of  God,  Philip  Hardin  goes  his  way  with  un 
clouded  brow.  His  eyes  have  a  strange  new  light 
in  them. 

The  "  Queen  of  the  El  Dorado "  sits  no  more 
at  the  wheel  of  fortune.  Day  succeeds  to  day. 
Nightly  expectation  is  balked.  Her  absent  charms 
are  magnified  in  description.  The  memory  of  the 
graceful,  dazzling  Hortense  Duval  fades  from  the 
men  who  struggle  around  the  gaming  boards  of 
the  great  "  El  Dorado."  She  never  shows  her 
charming  face  again  in  the  hall. 

The  secret  of  the  disappearance  of  this  mysterious 
sovereign  of  chance  is  known  to  but  few.  It  is 
merely  surmised  by  others.  To  Maxime  Valois  the 
bloody  occurrence  has  borne  fruits  of  importance. 
As  soon  as  some  business  is  arranged,  the  shadowy 
barrier  of  this  tragedy  divides  the  two  men.  Though 
slight,  it  is  yet  such  that  Valois  decides  to  go  to 
Stockton.  The  San  Joaquin  valley  offers  him  a  field. 
Land  matters  give  ample  scope  to  his  talents.  The 
investment  in  lands  can  be  better  arranged  from 
there.  The  Creole  is  glad  to  cast  his  lot  in  the  new 
community.  By  sympathy,  many  Southerners  crowd 


LAGUNITAS.  1 39 

in.  They  gain  control  of  the  beautiful  prairies  from 
which  the  herds  of  elk  and  antelope  are  disappear 
ing. 

Philip  Hardin's  safety  is  assured.  With  no  open 
breach  of  friendship  between  them,  Maxime  still 
feels  estranged.  He  visits  the  scene  of  his  future 
residence.  His  belongings  follow  him.  It  was  an 
intuition  following  a  tacit  understanding.  Man 
instinctively  shuns  the  murderer. 

Maxime  never  asked  of  the  future  of  the  vanished 
queen  of  the  El  Dorado.  In  his  visits  to  San  Fran 
cisco  he  finds  that  few  cross  Philip  Hardin's  thresh 
old  socially.  Even  these  are  never  bid  to  come 
again.  Is  there  a  hidden  queen  in  the  house  on  the 
hill  ?  Rumor  says  so. 

Rising  in  power,  Philip  Hardin  steadily  moves 
forward.  He  asks  no  favors.  He  seeks  no  friends. 
All  unmindful  is  he  of  the  tattle  that  a  veiled  lady 
of  elegant  appearance  sometimes  walks  under  the 
leafy  bowers  shading  his  lovely  home. 

The  excitable  populace  find  new  food  for  gossip. 
There  are  more  residences  than  one  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  where  dreamy  luxury  is  hidden  within  the 
unromantic  wooden  boxes  called  residences. 

Fair  faces  gleam  out  furtively  from  these  case 
ments.  At  open  doors,  across  whose  thresholds  no 
woman  of  position  ever  sets  a  foot,  wealth  stands  on 
guard.  Silence  seals  the  portals.  The  vassals  of 
gold  wait  in  velvet  slippers.  The  laws  of  possession 
are  enforced  by  the  dangers  of  any  trespass  on 
these  Western  harems. 

While  the  queen  city  of  the  West  rises  rapidly  it 
is  only  a  modern  Babylon  on  the  hills  of  the  bay. 


140  LAGUNITAS. 

The  influx  augments  all  classes.  Every  element  of 
present  and  future  usefulness  slowly  makes  head 
way  against  the  current  of  mere  adventure.  Nat 
ural  obstacles  yield  to  patient,  honest  industry. 
California  begins  in  grains,  fruits,  and  all  the  rich 
returns  of  nature,  to  show  that  Ceres,  Flora,  and 
Pomona  are  a  trinity  of  witching  good  fairies.  They 
beckon  to  the  world  to  wander  hither,  and  rest 
under  these  blue-vaulted  balmy  skies.  Near  the 
splendid  streams,  picturesque  ridges,  and  lovely  val 
leys  of  the  new  State,  health  and  happiness  may  be 
found,  even  peace. 

The  State  capital  is  located,  drawn  by  the  golden 
magnet,  at  Sacramento.  The  only  conquest  left 
for  the  dominating  Americans,  is  the  development 
of  this  rich  landed  domain.  Here,  where  the  Padres 
dreamed  over  their  monkish  breviaries,  where  the 
nomad  native  Californians  lived  only  on  the  car 
casses  of  their  wild  herds,  the  richest  plains  on 
earth  invite  the  honest  hand  of  the  farmer. 

The  era  of  frantic  dissipation,  wildest  license, 
insane  speculation,  and  temporary  abiding  wears 
away.  Bower  and  blossom,  bird  and  bee,  begin  to 
adorn  the  new  homes  of  the  Pacific. 

Mighty-hearted  men,  keen  of  vision,  strong  of 
purpose,  appear.  The  face  of  nature  is  made  to 
change  under  the  resolute  attacks  of  inventive  man. 
Roads  and  bridges,  wharves  and  storehouses,  tele 
graph  lines,  steamer  routes,  express  and  stage  sys 
tems,  banks  and  post-offices,  courts,  churches,  marts 
and  halls,  all  come  as  if  at  magic  call.  The  school 
master  is  abroad.  Public  offices  and  records  are  in 
working  order.  Though  the  fierce  hill  Indians  now 


LAGUNITAS.  141 

and  then  attack  the  miners,  they  are  driven  back 
toward  the  great  citadel  of  the  Sacramento  River. 
The  huge  mountain  ranges  on  the  Oregon  border 
are  their  last  fastnesses. 

In  every  community  of  the  growing  State,  the  law 
is  aided  by  quickly  executed  decrees  of  vigilance 
committees.  Self-appointed  popular  leaders,  crafty 
politicians,  scheming  preachers,  aspiring  editors,  and 
ambitious  demagogues  crop  up.  They  are  the  mush 
room  growth  of  the  muck-heap  of  the  new  civiliza 
tion. 

Hardin  gathers  up  with  friendships  the  rising  men 
of  all  the  counties.  At  the  newly  formed  clubs  of 
the  city  his  regular  entertainments  are  a  nucleus  of 
a  socio-political  organization  to  advance  the  ambi 
tious  lawyer  and  the  cause  of  the  South. 

Men  say  he  looks  to  the  Senate,  or  the  Supreme 
Bench.  Maxime  Valois,  rising  in  power  at  Stock 
ton,  retains  the  warmest  confidence  of  Hardin.  He 
knows  the  crafty  advocate  is  the  arch-priest  of 
Secession*  Month  by  month,  he  is  knitting  up  the 
web  of  his  dark  intrigues.  He  would  unite  the  dar 
ing  sons  of  the  South  in  one  great  secret  organiza 
tion,  ready  to  strike  when  the  hour  of  destiny  is  at 
hand.  It  comes  nearer,  day  by  day.  Here,  in  this 
secret  cause  of  the  South,  Valois'  heart  and  soul 
go  out  to  Hardin.  He  feels  the  South  was  jug 
gled  out  of  California.  Both  he  and  his  Mephisto 
are  gazing  greedily  on  the  wonderful  development 
of  the  coast.  Even  adjoining  Arizona  and  New 
Mexico  begin  to  fill  up.  The  conspirators  know 
the  South  is  handicapped  in  the  irrepressible  con 
flict  unless  some  diversion  is  made  in  the  West. 


142  LAGUNITAS. 

They  must  secure  for  the  states  of  the  Southern 
Republic  their  aliquot  share  of  the  varied  treasures 
of  the  West.  The  rich  spoil  of  an  unholy  war. 

Far-seeing  and  wise  is  the  pupil  of  Calhoun  and 
Slidell.  He  is  the  coadjutor  of  the  subtle  Gwin. 
Hardin  feeds  the  flame  of  Maxime  Valois'  ardor. 
The  business  friendship  of  the  men  continues  un 
abated.  They  need  each  other.  With  rare  deli 
cacy,  Valois  never  refers  to  the  blood-bought 
"  beauty  of  the  El  Dorado."  Her  graceful  form  never 
throws  its  shadow  over  the  threshold  of  the  luxuri 
ous  home  of  the  lawyer.  On  rare  visits  to  the  resi 
dence  of  his  friend,  Valois'  quick  eye  notes  the  evi 
dence  of  a  reigning  divinity.  A  piano  and  a  guitar, 
a  scarf  here,  a  few  womanly  treasures  there,  are 
indications  of  a  "  manage  a  deux."  They  prove  to 
Maxime  that  the  Egeria  of  this  intellectual  king  lin 
gers  near  her  victim.  He  is  still  under  her  mystic 
spell.  Breasting  the  tide  of  litigation  in  the  United 
States  and  State  courts,  popular  and  ardent,  the 
Louisianian  thrives.  He  rises  into  independent 
manhood.  He  is  toasted  in  Sacramento,  where  in 
legislative  halls  his  fiery  eloquence  distinguishes 
him.  He  is  the  king  of  the  San  Joaquin  valley. 

Preserving  his  friendship  with  the  clergy,  still 
warmly  allied  to  Padre  Francisco,  Maxime  Valois 
gradually  gains  an  unquestioned  leadership.  His 
friends  at  New  Orleans  are  proud  of  this  young 
pilgrim  from  "  Belle  fitoile."  Judge  Valois  hopes 
that  the  ^  coming  man  will  return  to  Louisiana  in 
search  of  some  bright  daughter  of  that  sunny  land, 
a  goddess  to  share  the  honors  of  the  younger 
branch  of  the  old  Valois  family.  Rosy  dreams! 


LAGUNITAS.  143 

Maxime,  satisfied,  yet  not  happy,  sees  a  great 
commonwealth  grow  up  around  him.  Looking 
under  the  tides  of  the  political  struggles,  he  can 
feel  the  undertow  of  the  future.  It  seems  to  drag 
him  back  to  the  old  Southern  land  of  his  birth, 
11  Home  to  Dixie." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

JOAQUIN,     THE     MOUNTAIN     ROBBER. — THE     DON'S 
PERIL. 

THE  leaders  of  the  San  Joaquin  meet  at  the 
office  of  Counsellor  Maxime  Valois.  He  is  the  ris 
ing  political  chief.  While  multitudes  yet  delve  for 
gold,  Valois  wisely  heads  those  who  see  that  the 
miners  are  merely  nomadic.  They  are  all  adventur 
ers.  The  great  men  of  the  coast  will  be  those  who 
control  its  broad  lands,  and  create  ways  of  commu 
nication.  The  men  who  develop  manufactures,  start 
commercial  enterprises,  and  the  farmers,  will  de 
velop  resources  of  this  virgin  State.  The  thousand 
vocations  of  civilization  are  building  up  a  solid 
fabric  for  future  generations. 

True,  the  poet,  the  story-writer,  and  the  careless 
stranger  will  be  fascinated  by  the  heroes  of  camp 
and  glen.  High-booted,  red-shirted,  revolver-carry 
ing,  bearded  argonauts  are  they,  braving  all  hard 
ships,  enjoying  sudden  wealth,  and  leading  romantic 
lives.  Stories  of  camp  and  cabin,  with  brief  Monte- 
Cristo  appearances  at  San  Francisco,  are  the  popu 
lar  rage.  These  rough  heroes  are  led  captive,  even 
as  Samson  was  betrayed  by  Delilah.  The  discovery 


144  LAGUNTTAS. 

of  quartz  mining  leads  Valois  to  believe  that  an 
American  science  of  geologic  mining  will  be  a  great 
help  in  the  future.  Years  of  failure  and  effort,  great 
experience,  with  associated  capital,  will  be  needed 
for  exploring  the  deep  quartz  veins.  Their  myste 
rious  origin  baffles  the  scientist. 

Long  after  the  individual  argonauts  have  laid 
their  weary  brows  upon  the  drifted  pine  needles 
in  the  deep  eternal  sleep  of  Death,  the  problem 
will  be  solved.  When  their  lonely  graves  are  land 
marks  of  the  Sierras ;  when  the  ephemeral  tent 
towns  have  been  folded  up  forever,  the  broad  lands 
of  California  will  support  great  communities.  To 
them,  these  early  days  will  be  as  unreal  as  the 
misty  wreaths  clinging  around  the  Sierras. 

The  romance  of  the  Gilded  Age !  Each  decade 
throws  a  deeper  mantle  of  the  shadowy  past  over 
the  struggles  of  fresh  hearts  that  failed  in  the  mad 
race  for  gold. 

Their  lives  become,  day  by  day,  a  mere  disjointed 
mass  of  paltry  incident.  Their  careers  point  no 
moral,  even  if  they  adorn  the  future  tale.  The 
type  of  the  argonaut  itself  begins  to  disappear. 
Those  who  returned  freighted  with  gold  to  their 
foreign  homes  are  rich,  and  leading  other  lives  far 
away.  Those  who  diverted  their  new-found  wealth 
into  industries  are  prospering.  They  will  leave  his 
tories  and  stable  monuments  of  their  life-work. 
But  the  great  band  of  placer  hunters  have  wandered 
into  the  distant  territories  of  the  great  West.  They 
leave  their  bones  scattered,  under  the  Indian's 
attack,  or  die  on  distant  quests.  They  drop  into 
the  stream  of  unknown  fate.  No  moral  purpose 


LAGUNITAS.  145 

attended  their  arrival.  No  high  aim  directed  their 
labors.  As  silently  as  they  came,  the  rope  of 
sand  has  sifted  away.  Their  influence  is  absolutely 
nothing  upon  the  future  social  life  of  California. 
Even  later  Californian  society  owes  nothing  of  its 
feverish  strangeness  to  these  gold  hunters.  They 
toiled  in  their  historic  quest.  The  prosaic  results 
of  the  polyglot  settlement  of  the  new  State  are  not 
of  their  direction. 

The  bizarre  Western  character  is  due  to  an  ad 
mixture  of  ill-assorted  elements.  Not  to  gold  itself 
or  the  lust  of  gold.  The  personal  history  of  the 
gold  hunters  is  almost  valueless.  No  hallowed 
memory  clings  to  the  miner's  grave.  No  blessing 
such  as  hovers  over  the  soldier,  dead  under  his 
country's  banner. 

The  early  miners  fell  by  the  way,  while  grubbing 
for  gold.  Their  ends  were  only  selfish  gain.  Their 
gold  was  a  minister  of  vilest  pleasures.  A  fool's 
title  to  temporary  importance. 

Among  them  were  many  of  high  powers  and 
great  capacity,  worthy  of  deeds  of  derring-do,  yet 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  narrowest  impulses  of 
human  action  drove  the  impetuous  explorers  over 
the  high  Sierras.  Gain  alone  buried  them  in  the 
dim  canons  of  the  Yuba  and  American.  The  sturdy 
citizens  pouring  in  with  their  families,  seeking 
homes;  those  who  laid  the  enduring  foundations  of 
the  social  fabric,  the  laws  and  enterprises  of  neces 
sity,  pith,  and  moment,  are  the  real  fathers  of  the 
great  Golden  State.  In  the  rapidity  of  settlement, 
all  the  manifold  labors  of  civilization  began  to 
gether.  Laus  Deo  \  There  were  hands,  brains,  and 


146  LAGUNITAS. 

hearts  for  those  trying  hours  of  the  sudden  acquisi 
tion  of  this  royal  domain. 

The  thoughtful  scholar  Nevins,  throwing  open 
the  first  public  school-room  to  a  little  nursery-like 
brood,  planted  the  seeds  of  a  future  harvest,  far 
richer  than  the  output  of  the  river  treasuries. 

A  farmer's  wife  toiling  over  the  long  plains, 
caring  for  two  beehives,  mindful  of  the  future, 
introduced  a  future  wealth,  kinder  in  prophetic 
thought,  than  he  who  blindly  stumbled  on  a 
bonanza. 

Humble  farmer,  honest  head  of  family,  intelli 
gent  teacher,  useful  artisan,  wise  doctor,  and  skilled 
mechanic,  these  were  the  real  fathers  of  the  State. 

The  sailor,  the  mechanic,  and  the  good  pioneer 
women,  these  are  the  heroes  and  heroines  gratefully 
remembered  now.  They  regulated  civilization ; 
they  stood  together  against  the  gold-maddened 
floating  miners ;  they  fought  the  vicious  camp-fol 
lowers. 

Maxime  Valois,  learned  in  the  civil  law  of  his 
native  State,  speaking  French  and  Spanish,  soon 
plunged  in  the  vexatious  land  litigation  of  his  gen 
eration.  Mere  casual  occupancy  gave  little  color  of 
title  to  the  commoner  Mexicans.  Now,  the  great 
grant  owners  are,  one  by  one,  cited  into  court  to 
prove  their  holdings  ;  many  are  forced  in  by  aggres 
sive  squatters. 

While  gold  still  pours  out  of  the  mines,  and  the 
young  State  feels  a  throbbing  life  everywhere,  the 
native  Californians  are  sorely  pressed  between  the 
land-getting  and  the  mining  classes.  Wild  herds 
no  longer  furnish  them  free  meat  at  will.  The 


LAGUNITAS.  147 

mustangs  are  driven  away  from  their  haunts. 
Growing  poverty  cuts  off  ranch  hospitality.  With 
out  courage  to  labor,  the  poorer  Mexicans,  con 
temptuously  called  Greasers,  go  to  the  extremes 
of  passive  suffering.  All  the  occupations  of  the 
vaqueros  are  gone.  These  desperate  Greasers  are 
driven  to  horse-stealing  and  robbery. 

Expert  with  lasso,  knife,  and  revolver,  they  know 
every  trail.  These  bandits  mount  themselves  at 
will  from  herds  of  the  new-comers. 

The  regions  of  the  north,  the  forests  of  the 
Sierras,  and  the  lonely  southern  valleys  give  them 
safe  lurking-places.  Wherever  they  reach  a  ranch 
of  their  people,  they  are  protected  ;  the  pursuers 
are  baffled  ;  they  are  misled  by  the  sly  hangers-on 
of  these  gloomy  adobe  houses. 

In  San  Joaquin,  the  brigands  kold  high  carnival ; 
they  sally  out  on  wild  rides  across  the  upper  Sacra 
mento.  The  mining  regions  are  in  terror.  Herds 
of  stolen  horses  are  driven  by  the  Livermore  Pass  to 
the  south.  Cattle  and  sheep  are  divided  ;  they  are 
used  for  food.  Sometimes  the  brands  are  skilfully 
altered  by  addition  or  counterfeit. 

Suspicious  Mexicans  are  soon  in  danger.  Short 
shrift  is  given  to  the  horse-thief.  The  State  author 
ities  are  powerless  in  face  of  the  duplicity  of  these 
native  residents.  They  feel  they  have  been  en 
slaved  by  the  treaty  of  Guadalupe  Hidalgo.  The 
roads  became  unsafe.  Travellers  are  subject  to  a 
sudden  volley  from  ambush.  The  fatal  lasso  is  one 
trick  ;  the  midnight  stab,  when  lodging  in  Mexican 
wayside  houses,  is  another.  There  is  no  longer 
safety  save  in  the  large  towns.  From  San  Diego  to 


148  LAGUNITAS. 

Shasta,  a  chain  of  criminals  leaves  a  record  of 
bloody  deeds.  There  are  broader  reasons  than  the 
mere  friction  of  races.  The  native  Californians  are 
rudely  treated  in  the  new  courts ;  their  personal 
rights  are  invaded  ;  their  homes  are  not  secure  ; 
their  women  are  made  the  prey  of  infamous  attack. 

A  deadly  feud  now  rises  between  the  Mexicans 
and  Americans.  These  brutal  encroachments  of 
the  new  governing  race  bring  reprisals  in  chance 
duels  and  secret  crimes.  This  organized  robbery  is 
a  return  blow.  The  Americans  are  forced  to  travel 
in  posses.  They  reinforce  their  sheriffs.  They  es 
tablish  armed  messengers.  In  town  and  county 
they  execute  suspects  by  a  lively  applied  Lynch 
law. 

All  that  is  needed  to  create  a  general  race-war  is 
a  determined  leadej. 

As  months  roll  on,  the  record  of  violence  becomes 
alarming.  Small  stations  are  attacked,  many  des 
perate  fights  occur.  Dead  men  are  weltering  in 
their  blood,  on  all  the  trails.  A  scheming  intelli 
gence  seems  now  to  direct  the  bandits.  Pity  was 
never  in  the  Mexican  heart.  But  now  unarmed 
men  are  butchered  while  praying  for  mercy.  Their 
bodies  are  wantonly  gashed.  Droves  of  poor,  plod 
ding,  unarmed  Chinese  miners  are  found  lying  dead 
like  sheep  in  rows.  Every  trail  and  road  is  unsafe. 
Different  bodies  of  robbers,  from  five  to  twenty,  op 
erate  at  the  same  time.  There  is  no  telegraph  here 
as  yet,  to  warn  the  helpless  settlers.  The  following 
of  treasure  trains  shows  that  spies  are  aiding  the 
bandits. 

The  leading  men  of  the  new  State  find  this  scourge 


LAGUNITAS.  149 

• 

unbearable.  Lands  are  untenanted,  cattle  and 
herds  are  a  prey  to  the  robbers.  Private  and  pub 
lic  reward  has  failed  to  check  this  evil.  Sheriff's 
posses  and  occasional  lynching  parties  shoot  and 
hang.  Still  the  evil  grows.  It  is  an  insult  to 
American  courage.  As  1852  is  ushered  in,  there  are 
nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dwellers  in 
the  new  State.  Still  the  reign  of  terror  continues. 
One  curious  fact  appears.  All  of  the  bandits  chased 
south  toward  Monterey  or  Los  Angeles  are  finally 
driven  to  bay,  killed,  or  scattered  as  fugitives.  In 
the  middle  regions,  the  organization  of  the  Mexican 
murderers  seems  to  be  aided  by  powerful  friends. 
They  evidently  furnish  news,  supplies,  and  give  con 
cealment  to  these  modern  butchers.  They  are  only 
equalled  by  the  old  cutthroats  of  the  Spanish  main. 

A  meeting  of  citizens  is  called  at  Stockton.  It 
is  privately  held,  for  fear  of  betrayal.  Maxime 
Valois  is,  as  usual,  in  the  van.  His  knowledge  of 
the  country  and  his  renown  as  a  member  of  Fre 
mont's  party  fit  him  to  lead.  A  secret  organiza 
tion  is  perfected.  The  sheriff  of  the  county  is  made 
head  of  it.  He  can  use  the  power  of  posse  and  his 
regular  force.  The  plundered  merchants  agree  to 
furnish  money  as  needed.  Maxime  Valois  is  needed 
as  the  directing  brain.  In  study  over  news  and 
maps,  the  result  proves  that  the  coast  and  south 
are  only  used  for  the  sale  of  stock  or  for  refuge. 

The  extreme  north  of  the  State  shows  no  prey, 
save  the  starving  Klamath  Indians.  It  is  true  the 
robbers  never  have  cursed  the  upper  mountains. 
Their  control  sweeps  from  Shasta  to  Sonoma,  from 
Marysville  and  Nevada  as  far  as  the  gates  of  Sacra- 


150  LAGUNITAS. 

• 

mento,  and  down  to  the  Livermore  Pass.  Mariposa 
groans  under  their  attacks. 

Valois  concludes  this  bloody  warfare  is  a  logical 
result  of  the  unnecessary  conquest  of  California.  To 
lose  their  nationality  is  galling.  To  see  Mexico, 
which  abandoned  California,  get  $15,000,000  in 
compensation  for  the  birthright  of  the  Dons  is  mad 
dening.  It  irritates  the  suspicious  native  blood. 
To  be  ground  down  daily,  causes  continual  bicker 
ing.  •  Ranch  after  ranch  falls  away  under  usury  or 
unjust  decisions.  In  this  ably  planned  brigandage, 
Valois  discerns  some  young  resentful  Californian 
of  good  family  has  assisted.  The  terrific  brutality 
points  also  to  a  relentless  daring  nature,  aroused  by 
some  special  wrong. 

Valois  muses  at  night  in  his  lonely  office.  His 
ready  revolvers  are  at  hand.  Even  here  in  Stock 
ton  a  Mexican,  friendly  to  the  authorities,  has  been 
filled  with  bullets  by  a  horseman.  The  assailant 
was  swathed  to  his  head  in  his  serape.  He  dashed 
away  like  the  wind.  There  is  danger  everywhere. 

The  young  lawyer  pictures  this,  the  daring  bravo 
—hero  by  nature — made  a  butcher  and  a  fiend  by 
goading  sorrows.  It  must  be  some  one  who  knows 
the  Americans,  who  has  travelled  the  interior,  and 
has  personal  wrongs  to  avenge. 

These  dark  riders  strike  both  innocent  and  guilty. 
They  kill  without  reason,  and  destroy  in  mere  wan 
tonness.  The  band  has  never  been  met  in  its  full 
muster.  The  general  operations  are  always  the 
same.  It  seems  to  Valois  that  there  are  two  burn 
ing  questions  : 

First — Who  is  the  leader? 


LAGUNITAS.  151 

Second — Where  is  the  hiding-place  or  strong 
hold? 

To  paralyze  the  band,  this  master  intelligence 
must  be  neutralized  by  death.  To  finish  the  work, 
that  stronghold  must  be  found  or  destroyed. 

There  is  as  yet  no  concurrent  voice  as  to  their 
leader.  Maxime  Valois  is  positive,  however,  that 
the  stronghold  is  not  far  from  the  slopes  of  Mari- 
posa.  The  deadly  riders  seem  to  disappear,  when 
driven  towards  Stockton.  They  afterwards  turn  up, 
as  if  sure  shelter  was  near. 

But  who  will  hound  this  fiend  to  his  lair?  Valois 
sends  for  the  sheriff.  They  decide  to  organize  a 
picked  corps  of  men.  They  will  ride  the  roads, 
with  leaders  selected  from  veteran  Indian  fighters. 
Others  are  old  soldiers  of  the  Mexican  war.  The 
heaviest  rewards  are  offered,  to  stimulate  the  capture 
of  the  bandit  chiefs.  Valois  knows,  though,  that 
money  will  never  cause  a  Mexican  to  betray  any 
countryman  to  the  Americans.  A  woman's  indis 
cretion,  yes,  a  jealous  sweetheart's  bitter  hatred 
might  lead  to  gaining  the  bandit  chief's  identity. 
But  gold.  Never!  The  Mexicans  never  needed  it, 
save  to  gamble.  Judas  is  their  national  scape 
goat. 

The  sheriff  has  collated  every  story  of  attack. 
Valois  draws  out  the  personality  of  the  leading 
actor  in  this  revelry  of  death.  A  superb  horseman, 
of  medium  size,  who  handles  his  American  dra 
goon  revolvers  with  lightning  rapidity.  A  young 
man  in  a  yellow,  black-striped  serape.  He  is  always 
superbly  mounted.  He  has  curling  blackest  hair. 
Two  dark  eyes,  burning  under  bushy  brows,  are  the 


152  LAGUNITAS. 

principal  features.  This  man  has  either  led  the 
murderers  or  been  present  at  the  fiercest  attacks. 
In  many  pistol  duels,  he  has  killed  some  poor  devil 
in  plain  sight  of  his  comrades. 

Valois  decides  to  search  all  towns  where  Spanish 
women  abound,  for  such  a  romantic  figure.  This 
bandit  must  need  supplies  and  ammunition.  He 
must  visit  women,  the  fandango,  and  the  attractions 
of  monte.  He  must  have  friends  to  give  him  news 
of  treasure  movements.  Valois  watches  secretly 
the  Spanish  quarters  of  all  the  mountain  towns  and 
the  great  ranches. 

The  Louisianian  knows  that  every  gambling-shop 
and  dance-house  is  a  centre  of  spies  and  marauders. 
The  throngs  of  unnoticed  Mexicans,  in  a  land  where 
every  traveller  is  an  armed  horseman,  enable  these 
robber  fiends  to  mingle  with  the  innocent.  The 
common  language,  hatred  of  the  Americans,  the 
hospitality  to  criminals  of  their  blood,  and  the 
admiration  of  the  sullen  natives  for  these  bravos, 
prevent  any  dependence  on  the  Mexican  popula 
tion. 

The  pursuers  have  often  failed  because  of  lack 
of  supplies,  and  worn-out  steeds.  The  villains  are 
secretly  refitted  by  those  who  harbor  them.  An 
hour  suffices  to  drive  up  the  "caballada,"  and  re 
mount  the  bandits  at  any  friendly  interior  ranch. 

Obstinate  silence  is  all  the  roadside  dwellers'  re 
turn  to  questions. 

Valois  cons  over  the  bloody  record  of  the  last  two 
years.  The  desperate  crimes  begin  with  Andres 
Armijo  and  Tomas  Maria  Carrillo.  They  were 
unyielding  ex-soldiers,  Both  of  these  have  been 


LAGUNITAS.  153 

run  to  earth.  Salamon  Pico,  an  independent  ban 
dit,  of  native  blood,  follows  the  same  general  career. 
John  Irving,  a  renegade  American,  has  held  the 
southern  part  of  the  State.  With  his  followers, 
he  murdered  General  Bean  and  others.  He  was 
only  an  outcast  foreigner. 

Maxime  Valois  knows  that  Irving  and  his  band 
have  been  butchered  by  savage  Indians  near  the 
Colorado.  Yet  none  of  these  have  killed  for  mere 
lust  of  blood.  This  mysterious  chieftain  who  murders 
for  personal  vengeance,  is  soon  known  to  the  de 
termined  Louisianian.  In  the  long  trail  of  tiger- 
like  assassinations,  the  robber  is  disclosed  by  his 
unequalled  thirst  for  blood. 

"  Joaquin  Murieta,  Joaquin  the  Mountain  Rob 
ber,  Joaquin  the  Yellow  Tiger."  He  flashes  out 
from  the  dark  shades  of  night,  or  the  depths  of 
chaparral  and  forest.  His  insane  butchery  proves 
Valois  to  be  correct. 

Dashing  through  camps,  lurking  around  towns, 
appearing  in  distant  localities,  he  robs  stages,  plun 
ders  stations,  and  personally  murders  innocent  trav 
ellers.  Express  riders  are  ambushed.  The  word 
"  Joaquin,"  scrawled  on  a  monte  card,  and  pinned  to 
the  dead  man's  breast,  often  tells  the  tale.  Lonely 
men  are  found  on  the  trails  with  the  fatal  bullet- 
hole  in  the  back  of  the  head,  shot  in  surprise. 
Sometimes  he  appears  with  followers,  often  alone. 
Now  openly  daring  individual  conflict,  then  slinking 
at  night  and  in  silence.  Sneak,  bravo,  and  tiger. 
He  is  a  Turpin  in  horsemanship.  A  fiend  in  his 
thirst  for  blood.  A  charmed  life  seems  his.  On 
magnificent  steeds,  he  rides  down  the  fleeing  trav- 


154  LAGUNTTAS. 

eller.  He  coolly  murders  the  exhausted  "  Gringo," 
taunting  his  hated  race  with  cowardice.  Sweeping 
from  north  to  south,  five  hundred  miles,  this  yellow- 
clad  fiend  always  keeps  the  Sacramento  or  San 
Joaquin  between  him  and  the  coast.  Men  shudder 
at  the  name  of  Joaquin  Murieta. 

Valois  sees  that  the  robber  chief's  permanent 
haunt  is  somewhere  in  the  Sierras.  This  must  be 
found.  The  sheriffs  of  Placer,  Nevada,  Sierra,  El 
Dorado,  Tuolumne,  Calaveras,  and  Mariposa  coun 
ties  are  in  the  field  with  posses.  Skirmish  after 
skirmish  occurs.  All  doubtful  men  are  arrested. 
Yet  the  red  record  continues.  Doubling  on  the 
pursuers,  hiding,  the  bandit  whirls  from  Shasta  to 
Tehama,  from  Oroville  to  Sacramento,  from  Marys- 
ville  to  Placerville.  Stockton,  San  Andreas,  So- 
nora,  and  Mariposa  are  terrorized.  Plundered  pack- 
trains,  murdered  men,  and  robbed  wayfarers  prove 
that  Joaquin  Murieta  is  ever  at  work.  His  swoop 
is  unerring.  The  yellow  serape,  black  banded,  the 
dark  scowling  face,  and  the  battery  of  four  revolvers, 
two  on  his  body,  two  on  his  saddle,  soon  make  him 
known  to  all  the  State. 

The  Governor  offers  five  thousand  dollars  State 
reward  for  Joaquin's  head.  County  rewards  are 
also  published.  Valois  watches  all  the  leading 
Mexican  families.  Some  wild  son  or  member  must 
be  unaccounted  for.  No  criminal  has  yet  appeared 
of  good  blood,  save  Tomas  Maria  Carrillo.  But  he 
has  been  dead  a  year,  shot  in  his  tracks  by  a  brave 
man.  The  bandits  hover  ajound  Stockton.  The 
Americans  go  heavily  armed,  and  only  travel  in 
large  bodies.  Public  rage  reaches  its  climax,  when 


LAGUNITAS.  155 

there  is  found  pinned  on  the  body  of  a  dead  deputy- 
sheriff  a  printed  proclamation  of  the  Governor  of 
$5,000  for  Joaquin's  head. 

Under  the  printed  words  is  the  scrawl : 

"  I  myself  will  give  ten  thousand. 

"  JOAQUIN." 

The  passions  of  the  Americans  break  loose.  In 
nocent  Mexicans  are  shot  and  hanged  ;  all  strag 
glers  driven  out. 

The  San  Joaquin  valley  becomes  a 'theatre  of 
continued  conflict. 

"  Claudio,"  another  dark  chief,  ravages  the  Sali 
nas.  He  is  the  robber  king  of  the  coast.  The 
officers  find  a  union  between  the  coast  and  inland 
bandits.  Now  the  manly  settlers  of  the  San  Joa 
quin  rise  in  wrath.  Texan  rangers,  old  veterans, 
heroes  of  Comanche  and  Sioux  battles,  all  swear  to 
hunt  Joaquin  Murieta  to  death. 

Maxime  Valois  takes  the  saddle.  He  posts 
strong  forces  in  the  defiles  opening  to  the  coast. 
A  secret  messenger  leaves  for  Monterey.  A  vigor 
ous  attack  on  the  coast  bandits  drives  them  toward 
the  inland  passes. 

"  Claudio  "  and  his  followers  are  killed,  after  a 
bitter  hand-to-hand  duel.  One  or  two  are  hanged. 
Sheriff  Cocks  is  the  hero  of  the  coast.  Maxime 
Valois  calls  his  ablest  men  together. 

Dividing  the  main  forces  into  several  bodies, 
a  leader  is  selected  for  each  squad.  Scouts  are 
thrown  out.  They  report  daily  to  the  heads  of 
divisions.  The  moving  forces  are  ready  to  close 
in  and  envelop  their  hated  enemy. 


156  LAGUNITAS. 

Learning  of  the  death  of  "  Claudio,"  and  that  a 
strong  body  of  Southern  settlers  is  also  in  the  field, 
Maxime  Valois  feels  the  band  of  Joaquin  is  cut 
off  in  the  square  between  Placerville  and  Sonora, 
Stockton  and  the  Sierras.  It  is  agreed  that  the 
fortunate  division  striking  the  robbers,  shall  follow 
the  warm  trail  to  the  last  man  and  horse.  Rein 
forcements  will  push  after  them. 

The  sheriff  has  charge  of  one,  Maxime  Valois  of 
another,  Captain  Harry  Love,  a  swarthy  long-haired 
Texan  ranger,  of  the  third.  Love's  magnificent 
horsemanship,  his  dark  features,  drooping  mus 
tache  and  general  appearance,  might  class  him  as  a 
Spaniard.  Blackened  with  the  burning  sun  of  the 
plains,  the  deserts,  and  tropic  Mexico,  his  cavalier 
locks  sweep  to  his  shoulders.  The  heavy  Ken 
tucky  rifle,  always  carried  across  his  saddle,  proves 
him  the  typical  frontiersman  and  ranger.  He  is  a 
dead  shot.  Many  a  Comanche  and  guerilla  have 
fallen  under  the  unerring  aim  of  Harry  Love.  His 
agile  frame,  quickness  with  the  revolver,  and  nerve 
with  the  bowie-knife,  have  made  him  equally  feared 
at  close  quarters. 

In  the  dark  hours  of  a  spring  morning  of  1854, 
the  main  command  breaks  into  its  three  divisions. 
The  sheriff  covers  the  lines  towards  the  north  and 
San  Andreas.  Maxime  skirts  the  Sierras.  Harry 
Love,  marching  silently  and  at  night,  hiding  his 
command  by  day,  marches  towards  Sonora.  He 
sweeps  around  and  rejoins  Valois'  main  body.  The 
net  is  spread. 

Scouts  are  distributed  over  this  region.  The  mad 
wolf  of  the  Sierras  is  at  last  to  be  hunted  to  his  lair. 


LAGUNITAS.  157 

The  unknown  retreat  must  be  in  the  Sierras.  He 
determines  to  throw  his  own  command  over  the 
valley  towards  the  unvisited  Lagunitas  rancho. 
Padre  Francisco  will  be  there,  a  good  adviser. 
Valois,  the  rich  and  successful  lawyer,  is  another 
man  from  the  penniless  prisoner  of  seven  years 
before.  Knowing  the  hatred  of  Don  Miguel  for 
the  Americans,  he  has  never  revisited  the  place. 
Still  he  would  like  to  meet  the  beloved  padre 
again.  He  will  not  uselessly  enrage  the  gloomy 
lord  of  Lagunitas.  Don  Miguel  is  a  hermit  now. 

Three  days'  march,  skilfully  concealed,  brings 
him  to  the  notched  pass,  where  Lagunitas  lies  under 
its  sentinel  mountains. 

Brooding  over  the  past,  thinking  of  the  great 
untravelled  regions  behind  the  grant,  stories  from 
the  early  life  of  Don  Miguel  haunt  the  sleepless 
hours  of  the  anxious  young  Southern  leader.  He 
lies  under  the  stars,  wrapped  in  his  blankets.  La 
gunitas,  once  more  ! 

Up  before  day,  filing  through  light  forest  and 
down  the  passes  of  the  foothills,  the  command 
threads  its  way.  Valois  calls  his  leading  subordi 
nates  together.  He  arranges  the  visit  to  the  ranch. 
He  sends  a  squad  of  five  to  ride  down  the  roads  a 
few  miles,  and  meet  any  scouts  or  vedettes  of  the 
other  Southern  party.  Valois  directs  his  men  where 
to  rejoin  him.  He  points  out,  a  few  miles  ahead,  a 
rocky  cliff,  behind  which  the  rolling  hills  around 
Lagunitas  offer  several  hidden  approaches  to  the 
rancho.  Cautiously  leading  his  men,  to  avoid  a 
general  alarm,  he  skirts  the  woods.  The  party 
rides  in  Indian  file,  to  leave  a  light  trail  only. 


158  LAGUNITAS. 

Before  the  frowning  cliff  is  neared,  Valois'  keen 
eye  sees  his  scouts  straggling  back.  They  are  gal 
loping  at  rapid  speed,  making  for  the  cliff.  The 
whole  command,  with  smoking  steeds,  soon  joins 
the  scouts.  With  them  are  two  of  Love's  outriders. 
The  bandits  are  near  at  hand.  For  the  scouts, 
riding  up  all  night  from  Love's  body,  have  taken 
the  main  road.  Within  ten  miles  they  find  sev 
eral  dead  men — the  ghastly  handiwork  of  Joaquin. 
Their  breathless  report  is  soon  over.  Detaching  ten 
fresh  men,  with  one  of  the  news-bearers,  to  join 
Love  and  bring  him  up  post-haste,  Maxime  Valois 
orders  every  man  to  prepare  his  girths  and  arms  for 
action.  Guided  by  the  other  scouts,  the  whole 
command  pricks  briskly  over  to  the  concealment  of 
a  rolling  valley.  There  is  but  one  ridge  between  it, 
now,  and  Lagunitas. 

Maxime  calls  up  his  aids.  He  gives  them  his 
rapid  directions.  Only  the  previous  knowledge  of 
the  ex-pathfinder  enabled  him  to  throw  his  men  be 
hind  the  sheltering  ridge,  unseen  from  the  old  Don's 
headquarters. 

In  case  of  meeting  any  robbers,  the  subordinates 
are  to  seize  and  hold  the  ranch  with  ten  determined 
men.  He  throws  the  rest  out  in  a  strong  line,  to 
sweep  east  and  south,  till  Love's  column  is  met. 
Winding  into  the  glen,  Valois  takes  five  men  and 
mounts  the  ridge. 

He  now  skilfully  nears  the  crest  of  the  ridge. 
The  main  command  is  moving  slowly,  a  few  hundred 
yards  below.  With  the  skill  of  the  old  scout  of  the 
plains,  he  brings  his  little  squad  up  to  the  shoulder 
of  the  ridge  to  the  south  of  the  rancho.  Dismount- 


LAGUNITAS.  159 

ing,  Indian-like,  he  crawls  up  to  the  summit,  from 
which  the  beautiful  panorama  of  glittering  Lagu- 
nitas  lies  before  him.  By  his  side  is  a  tried  friend. 
A  life  and  death  supporter. 

Lagunitas  again  !  It  is  backed  by  the  forest, 
where  swaying  pines  are  singing  the  same  old  song 
of  seven  long  years  ago.  His  eye  sweeps  over  the 
scene. 

Quick  as  a  flash,  Valois  springs  back  to  the  horses. 
Two  mounted  cavaliers,  followed  by  a  serving  man, 
can  be  seen  smartly  loping  away  to  the  southeast. 
They  are  bending  towards  the  region  where  Love's 
course,  the  trail  of  the  bandits,  and  Maxime's  march 
intersect.  Is  it  treachery?  Some  one  to  warn  the 
robbers ! 

Not  a  moment  to  lose!  "  Harris,"  cries  Valois 
to  his  companion,  "  lead  the  main  command  over  to 
that  mountain.  Be  ready  to  strike  any  moment. 
Send  Hill  and  ten  men  to  capture  the  ranch  by 
moving  over  the  ridge.  Keep  every  one  there. 
Hold  every  human  inmate.  I'll  cut  these  men  off." 
Away  gallops  Harris.  Valois  leads  the  four  over  the 
other  spur.  They  drop  down  the  eastern  slope  of 
the  point.  The  riders  have  to  pass  near.  In  rapid 
words  he  orders  them  to  throw  themselves  quickly, 
at  a  dead  run,  ahead  of  the  travellers.  He  waits 
till,  six  or  eight  hundred  yards  away,  the  strange 
horsemen  pass  the  lowest  point  of  the  ridge.  The 
first  three  scouts  are  now  well  across  the  line  of 
march  of  the  quick-moving  strangers.  Then,  with  a 
word,  "Now,  boys,  remember!"  Valois  spurs  his 
roan  out  into  the  open.  At  a  wild  gallop  he  cuts 
off  the  retreat  of  the  horsemen. 


l6o  LAGUNITAS. 

Ha !  one  turns.  They  are  discovered.  In  an  in 
stant  the  wild  mustangs  are  racing  south.  Valois 
dashes  along  in  pursuit.  He  has  warned  his  men  to 
use  no  firearms  till  absolutely  necessary.  He  shouts 
to  his  two  followers  to  wait  till  the  last.  He  would 
capture,  not  kill,  these  three  spies. 

Out  from  the  slopes  below,  the  main  column,  at  a 
brisk  trot,  cross  the  valley.  They  are  led  by  the 
quick-eyed  scout,  who  knows  how  to  throw  them  on 
the  narrowing  suspected  region.  Love's  men  and 
the  band  of  Joaquin,  if  here,  must  soon  meet.  The 
three  men  in  advance  ride  up  at  different  points. 
They  have  seen  pursuer  and  pursued  galloping 
madly  towards  them.  Instantly  the  man  following 
the  first  rider  darts  northward,  and  spurring  up  a 
ridge  disappears,  followed  by  two  of  the  three 
scouts  in  advance.  The  other  rider  draws  up  and 
stands  his  ground  with  his  servant.  As  Valois  and 
his  companions  ride  up,  the  crack,  crack,  crack,  of 
heavy  dragoon  revolvers  is  wafted  over  the  ridge. 
It  is  now  too  late  for  prudence.  The  horseman 
at  bay  has  wheeled.  Maxime  recognizes  the  old 
Don. 

Miguel  Peralta  is  no  man  to  be  bearded  in  his  own 
lair,  unscathed.  He  spurs  his  horse  back  towards 
the  ranch.  He  fires  rapidly  into  the  three  pursuers 
as  he  darts  by.  He  is  a  dangerous  foe  yet. 

Valois  feels  a  sharp  pang  in  his  shoulder.  He 
reels  in  his  saddle.  His  revolver  lies  in  the  dust. 
The  ringing  reports  of  his  body-guard  peal  out  as 
they  empty  their  pistols  at  fleeing  horse  and  man. 
The  servant  runs  up,  thoroughly  frightened. 

Don   Miguel's  best  horse  has  made  its  last  leap. 


LAGUNITAS.  l6l 

It  crashes  down,  pinioning  the  old    soldier  to  the 
ground.     A  bullet  luckily  has  pierced  its  brain. 

Before  the  old  ranchero  can  struggle  to  his  feet, 
his  hands  are  twisted  behind  his  back.  A  couple  of 
turns  of  a  lariat  clamp  his  wrists  with  no  fairy  band. 
A  cocked  pistol  pressed  against  his  head  tells  him 
that  the  game  is  up. 

Valois  drops,  half  fainting,  from  his  horse,  while 
his  men  disarm  and  bind  the  sullen  old  Mexican. 
The  blood  pouring  from  Valois'  shoulder  calls  for 
immediate  bandaging.  The  two  pursuers  of  the 
other  fugitive  now  ride  smartly  back. 

One  lags  along,  with  a  torn  and  shattered  jaw. 
His  companion  is  unhurt.  He  bears  across  his 
saddle  bow  a  well-known  emblem,  the  yellow  and 
black  serape  of  Joaquin  Murieta.  Several  ball 
holes  prove  it  might  have  been  his  shroud.  Valois 
quickly  interrogates  the  two  ;  after  a  hasty  pistol 
duel,  in  which  the  flowing  serape  misled  the  two 
practised  shots,  the  fugitive  plunged  down  a  steep 
slope,  with  all  the  recklessness  of  a  Californian 
vaquero.  It  was  Joaquin  ! 

When  the  pursuers  reached  the  trail,  it  was 
marked  by  the  abandoned  blanket.  A  heavy  saddle 
also  lay  there,  cut  loose.  Joaquin  Murieta  was 
riding  away  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  but  unwit 
tingly  into  the  jaws  of  death.  Two  or  three  from 
the  main  body  took  up  the  trail.  The  whole  body 
pushed  ahead  on  the  track  of  the  flying  bandit — 
ready  for  fight. 

With    failing    energies,    Valois    directs    the    un- 
wounded  pursuer  to  rejoin  the  column.     He  sends 
stern  orders   to    Harris,  to  spare  neither  man   nor 
11 


1 62  LAGUNITAS. 

beast,  to  follow  the  trail  to  the  last.  Even  to  the 
heart  of  the  gloomy  forests,  this  great  human  vam 
pire  must  be  hounded  on  his  lonely  ride  to  death. 

In  the  saddle,  held  up  by  his  men,  Maxime  Valois 
toils  slowly  towards  Lagunitas.  Beside  him  the 
wounded  scout,  pistol  in  hand,  rides  as  a  body 
guard.  In  charge  of  growling  old  Don  Miguel,  a 
man  leads  him,  dismounted,  by  a  lariat.  His  horse 
and  trappings  lie  on  the  trail,  after  removing  all  the 
arms.  He  is  sullen  and  silent.  His  servant  is  a 
mere  human  animal.  Cautiously  approaching,  the 
plaza  lies  below  them.  In  the  square,  the  horses  of 
the  captors  can  be  seen  peacefully  grazing.  Senti 
nels  are  mounted  at  several  places.  Valois  at  last 
reenters  the  old  hacienda,  wounded,  but  in  pride, 
as  a  conqueror. 

He  is  met  at  the  priest's  door  by  Padre  Francisco. 
Don  Miguel  Peralta,  the  last  of  the  land  barons  of 
the  San  Joaquin,  is  now  a  prisoner  in  the  sacristy 
of  the  church.  Time  has  its  revenges.  The  turns 
of  fortune's  wheel.  Padre  Francisco  assembles  the 
entire  population  of  the  home  ranch  by  the  clang 
ing  of  the  church  bell.  In  a  few  words  he  explains 
the  reasons  of  the  occupancy.  He  orders  the  hired 
men  to  remain  in  the  enclosure  under  the  guard  of 
the  sentinels.  He  dresses  skilfully  the  wound  of 
Maxime.  He  patches  up  the  face  of  the  wounded 
scout,  whose  proudest  future  boast  will  be  that  Joa 
quin  Murieta  gave  him  those  honorable  scars. 

Maxime,  worn  and  faint,  falls  into  a  fevered  sleep. 
His  subordinate  holds  the  ranch,  with  all  the  force 
ready  for  any  attack.  The  afternoon  wears  on.  In 
sleep  Valois  forgets  both  the  flying  bandit  and  his 


LAGUNITAS.  163 

fate.  The  old  Don,  his  eyes  filled  with  scalding 
tears,  rages  in  his  bonds.  Pale,  frightened  Donna 
Juanita  clasps  her  hands  in  the  agony  of  prayer 
before  the  crucifix  in  the  chapel.  Beside  her  stands 
Dolores,  now  a  budding  beauty,  in  radiant  woman 
hood.  The  dark-eyed  young  girl  is  mute.  Her 
pathetic  glances  are  as  shy  as  a  wounded  deer's 
dying  gaze.  "  The  dreaded  Americanos." 

Over  the  beautiful  hills,  fanned  by  the  breezes  of 
sunset,  the  softened  shadows  fall.  Twilight  brings 
the  hush  and  rest  of  early  evening.  The  stars  mir 
ror  themselves  in  the  sparkling  bosom  of  Lagunitas. 

Watching  the  wounded  leader,  Padre  Francisco's 
seamed,  thoughtful  face  is  very  grave.  His  thin 
fingers  tell  the  beads  of  the  rosary.  Prayer  after 
prayer  passes  his  moving  lips. 

The  shadow  of  sorrow7,  sin,  and  shame  is  on  La 
gunitas.  He  fears  for  the  future  of  the  family. 
There  has  been  foul  play.  There  the  tiger  of 
Sonora  has  made  his  lair  in  the  trackless  canons  and 
rich  valleys  of  the  foot-hills.  The  old  Don  must 
have  known  all. 

Prayers  for  the  dead  and  dying  fall  on  the  silence 
of  the  night.  They  are  roughly  broken  by  the 
trampling  of  horses'  feet.  The  priest  is  called  out 
by  the  sentinel.  By  the  dim  light  of  the  stars,  he 
sees  two  score  shadowy  horsemen.  Between  their 
lines,  several  poor  wretches  are  bound  and  stiivering 
in  captivity. 

A  swarthy  figure  swings  from  the  saddle.  Captain 
Harry  Love  springs  across  the  threshold.  Unmind 
ful  of  the  warning  of  the  priest,  he  rouses  Valois. 
He  cries  exultantly,  "  We  have  him  this  time, 


164  LAGUNITAS. 

squire !  "  Lying  on  the  portico,  tied  in  the  sack, 
in  which  it  swung  at  the  ranger's  saddle-horn,  is  the 
head  of  Joaquin  Murieta.  Valois  struggles  to  his 
feet.  Surrounded  by  the  victors,  by  the  light  of  a 
torch,  he  gazes  on  the  awful  token  of  victory.  As 
the  timid  priest  sees  the  fearful  object,  he  cries, 
"  Joaquin  Carrillo  !  " 

It  is  indeed  he.  The  disgraced  scion  of  an  old 
and  proud  line.  The  good  priest  shudders  as  Harry 
Love,  leaning  on  the  rifle  which  sent  its  ball  into 
Joaquin's  heart,  calmly  says,  "That  thing  is  worth 
ten  thousand  dollars  to  me  to-night,  Valois !  " 

Already,  swift  riders  are  bringing  up  the  forces  of 
the  sheriff.  In  the  morning  the  history  is  known. 
The  converging  columns  struck  the  bandits,  who 
scattered.  The  work  of  vengeance  was  quick. 
"  Three-fingered  Jack,"  the  murderous  ancient  of 
the  bandit  king,  is  killed  in  the  camp.  Several 
fugitives  are  captured.  Several  more  hung.  Joa 
quin  Murieta,  exhausted  in  the  flight  of  the  morn 
ing,  his  horse  tired  and  wounded,  drops  from  the 
charger,  at  a  snap  shot  of  the  intrepid  ranger,  Love. 
The  robber  has  finished  his  last  ride. 

Valois  recovers  rapidly.  He  has  much  to  do  to 
stem  the  resentment  of  the  pursuers.  The  head  of 
Joaquin  and  the  hand  of  Three-fingered  Jack  are 
poor,  scanty  booty.  Not  as  ghastly  as  the  half- 
dozen  corpses  swinging  on  Lagunitas'  oaks,  and 
ghastly  trophies  of  a  chase  of  months.  The  pris 
oners  are  lynched.  Far  and  wide,  cowardly  avengers 
butcher  suspected  Mexicans.  California  breathes 
freely  now.  Joaquin  Murieta  Carrillo  will  weave 
no  more  guerilla  plots. 


LAGUN1TAS.  165 

The  padre  and  Valois  commune  with  the  fright 
ened  lady  of  the  hacienda.  Donna  Juanita  im 
plores  protection.  Shy  Dolores  puts  her  slender 
hand  in  his,  and  begs  him  to  protect  her  beloved 
father. 

Maxime,  in  pity  for  the  two  women,  conceals 
the  history  gathered  from  honorable  Francois  Ri- 
baut.  Joaquin  played  skilfully  upon  Don  Miguel's 
hatred  of  the  Americans.  He  knew  of  the  lurking 
places  behind  Lagunitas.  From  these  interior  fast 
nesses,  known  to  Don  Miguel  from  early  days,  Joa 
quin  could  move  on  several  short  lines.  He  thus 
appeared  as  if  by  magic.  With  confederates  at  dif 
ferent  places,  his  scattered  bands  had  a  rendezvous 
near  Lagunitas.  His  followers  mingled  with  differ 
ent  communities,  and  were  picked  up  here  and  there 
on  his  raids.  Special  attacks  were  suggested  by 
treasure  movements.  The  murdering  was  not  ex 
ecuted  by  the  general  banditti,  but  by  Joaquin 
alone,  and  one  or  two  of  his  special  bravos.  Exam 
ining  the  captives,  Padre  Francisco,  by  the  agency 
of  the  Church,  learned  that,  a  few  years  before,  a 
lovely  Mexican  girl,  to  whom  Joaquin  was  bound 
by  a  desperate  passion,  was  the  victim  of  foul  out 
rage  by  some  wandering  American  brutes.  Her 
death,  broken-hearted,  caused  the  desperado  to 
swear  her  grave  should  be  watered  with  American 
blood.  Pride  of  race,  and  a  bitter  thirst  for  revenge, 
made  Joaquin  Murieta  what  he  was, — a  human 
scourge.  His  boyhood,  spent  roaming  over  the 
interior,  rendered  him  matchless  in  local  topogra 
phy. 

It   was   possible   to  disguise  the   fact  of  supplies 


l66  LAGUNITAS. 

being  drawn  from  Lagunitas.  Don  Miguel  was 
a  great  ranchero.  As  days  rolled  on,  the  plunder 
of  the  bandits  was  brought  to  the  rancho.  Joa- 
quin's  mutilated  body  was  a  prey  to  the  mountain 
wolf.  The  ghastly  evidences  of  victory  were  sent 
to  San  Francisco,  where  they  remained  for  years,  a 
reminder  of  bloody  reprisal. 

Padre  Francisco  saw  with  fear  the  rising  indigna 
tion  against  Don  Miguel.  A  clamor  for  his  blood 
arose.  Maxime  Valois  plead  for  the  old  Comman- 
dante.  He  had  really  imagined  Joaquin's  vendetta 
to  be  a  sort  of  lawful  war. 

The  forces  began  to  leave  Lagunitas.  Only  a 
strong  escort  body  remained.  Valois  prepares  his 
departure. 

In  a  last  interview,  with  Padre  Francisco  present, 
the  lawyer  warned  Don  Miguel  not  to  leave  his 
hacienda  for  some  time.  His  life  would  surely 
be  sacrificed  to  the  feelings  of  the  Americans. 
Thankful  for  their  safety,  the  mother  and  sweet 
girl  Dolores  gratefully  bid  adieu  to  Maxime.  He 
headed,  himself,  the  last  departing  band  of  the 
invaders.  The  roads  were  safe  to  all.  No  trace  of 
treasures  of  Joaquin  was  found.  Great  was  the 
murmuring  of  the  rangers.  Were  these  hoards  con 
cealed  on  the  rancho?  Search  availed  nothing. 
Valois  spurs  down  the  road.  Lagunitas !  He 
breathes  freer,  now  that  the  avengers  are  balked, 
at  Lagunitas.  They  would  even  sack  the  rancho. 
Camping  twenty  miles  away,  Maxime  dreams  of  his 
Southern  home,  as  the  stars  sweep  westward. 

In  the  morning,  a  rough  hand  rouses  him.  It  is 
the  sentinel. 


LAGUNITAS.  167 

"Captain,  wake  up  !  " 

He  springs  to  his  feet.     "  What  is  it  ?  "  he  cries. 

"  Half  the  men  are  gone,  sir.  They  have  stolen 
back  to  hang  the  old  Spaniard.  They  think  he  has 
concealed  Joaquin's  treasures." 

Valois  rouses  several  tired  friends. 

"  My  horse  !  "  he  yells. 

As  he  springs  to  the  saddle,  the  sentinel  tells  him 
a  friend  disclosed  the  plot.  Fear  kept  him  silent 
till  the  mutineers  stole  away. 

"  There  are  yet  two  hours  to  day.  Is  there 
time?"  Maxime  stretches  out  in  the  gallop  of  a 
skilled  plainsman.  He  must  save  the  priest  and 
the  women  at  least. 

The  mutineers  will  wait  till  daylight  for  their 
swoop.  They  are  mad  with  the  thirst  for  the  lost 
treasures  of  Joaquin. 

On,  on,  with  the  swing  of  the  prairie  wolf,  the 
young  leader  gallops.  He  rides  down  man  after 
man.  As  he  gallops  he  thinks  of  Seflora  Juanita, 
the  defenceless  priest,  the  wounded  old  Comman- 
dante,  and  the  sweet  blossoming  beauty  of  the  Sier 
ras,  star-eyed  young  Dolores,  They  must  be  saved. 
On,  on  ! 

Day  points  over  the  hills  as  Maxime  dashes  into 
the  unguarded  plaza  of  the  ranch.  There  are 
sounds  of  shots,  yells,  and  trampling  feet.  He 
springs  from  his  exhausted  steed.  The  doors  of  the 
ranch-house  give  way.  He  rushes  to  the  entrance, 
to  find  the  rooms  empty.  In  a  moment  he  realizes 
the  facts.  He  reaches  the  priest's  house.  Beating 
on  the  door,  he  cries  :  "  Open  quick  !  It  is  Valois." 
Springing  inside  he  finds  Padre  Francisco,  his  eyes 


1 68  LAGUNITAS. 

lit  up  with  the  courage  of  a  gallant  French  gentle 
man. 

"  They  are  all  here,"  he  gasps.  "  Safe?  "  queries 
Valois.  "Yes."  "Thank  God!"  Maxime  cries. 
"  Quick !  Hurry  them  into  the  church.  Hold  the 
sacristy  door." 

Maxime's  two  or  three  friends  have  followed  him. 
The  doors  are  closed  behind  them.  The  heavy 
adobe  walls  are  shot-proof.  The  refuge  of  the 
church  is  gained  none  too  soon. 

The  mutineers  spread  through  the  padre's  house. 
Pouring  in  through  the  sacristy  passage,  they  are 
faced  in  the  gray  dawn  by  Valois,  his  eyes  blazing. 
He  holds  a  dragoon  revolver  in  each  hand.  He  is 
a  dead  shot.  Yet  the  mutineers  are  fearless. 

"  Give  up  the  Greaser  robber  !  "  is  their  mad  yell. 

"  Never!  "  cries  Valois.  "  He  is  old  and  foolish, 
but  he  shall  not  be  abused.  Let  him  answer  to  the 
law." 

"  Captain,"  cries  one,  "  we  don't  want  to  hurt 
you,  but  we  are  going  to  find  Joaquin's  plunder." 

"  The  first  man  who  moves  over  this  threshold  is 
a  dead  man  !  "  cries  Valois. 

No  one  cares  to  be  first,  but  they  rage  wildly. 
They  all  gather  for  a  rush.  Weapons  are  ominously 
clicking.  As  they  come  on,  Padre  Francisco  stands 
before  them,  pale  and  calm  in  the  morning  light. 

"  Kill  me  first,  my  friends,"  he  says.  His  body 
covers  Valois. 

The  knot  of  desperate  men  stand  back.  They 
cannot  shoot  an  unarmed  priest,  yet  growling  mur 
murs  are  heard  :  "  Burn  them  out,"  "  Go  ahead," 
"  Shoot  the  old  Greaser." 


LAGUNITAS.  169 

A  sound  of  trampling  hoofs  drowns  their  cries. 
The  main  body  of  the  detachment,  stung  with 
shame,  have  galloped  back  to  rescue  Valois.  It  is 
over.  The  mutineers  sullenly  retire  in  a  body. 

Three  hours  later  the  detachment  rides  off.  The 
rebels  have  wandered  away.  Guarded  by  the  friends 
of  the  wild  night-ride,  Valois  remains  at  Lagu- 
nitas. 

Under  questioning  of  the  padre,  whose  honor 
able  French  blood  boils  at  the  domain  being  made 
a  nest  of  assassins,  the  Don  describes  Joaquin's 
lurking-places.  With  one  or  two  mozos,  Valois 
visits  all  the  old  camps  of  the  freebooters,  within 
seventy  five  miles.  He  leaves  his  men  at  Lagunitas 
for  safety.  He  threads  the  fastnesses  of  the  invio 
late  forests.  They  stretch  from  Shasta  to  Fresno, 
the  great  sugar  pines  and  redwoods  of  California. 

The  axe  of  man  has  not  yet  attacked  them.  No 
machinery,  no  tearing  saws  are  in  these  early  days 
destroying  their  noble  symmetry.  But  they  are 
doomed.  Fires  and  wanton  destruction  are  yet  to 
come,  to  leave  blackened  scars  over  once  lovely 
areas.  Man  mutilates  the  lovely  face  of  Nature's 
sweetest  sylvan  retreats.  Down  the  great  gorge  of 
the  Yosemite,  Valois  rides  past  the  giant  Big  Trees 
of  Calaveras.  He  finds  no  hidden  treasures,  no 
buried  deposits.  The  camps  near  Lagunitas  dis 
close  only  some  concealed  supplies.  No  arms,  valu 
ables,  and  treasures,  torn  from  the  murdered  travel 
lers,  in  the  two  years'  red  reign  of  Joaquin,  the 
Mountain  Tiger. 

Valois  concludes  that  Joaquin  divided  the  gold 
among  his  followers.  He  must  have  used  it  largely 


I/O  LAGUNTTAS. 

to  purchase  assistance  from  his  spies,  scattered 
through  the  interior. 

The  stolen  animals  were  undoubtedly  all  scattered 
over  the  State.  The  weapons,  saddlery,  and  gear, 
booty  of  the  native  horse-thief  bands,  have  been 
sent  as  far  as  Chihuahua  in  Mexico.  Valuable  per 
sonal  articles  were  scarce.  Few  trophies  were  ever 
recovered.  The  gold-dust  was  unrecognizable. 
Valois  reluctantly  gives  up  the  search.  He  returns 
convinced  that  mere  lust  of  blood  directed  Joaquin 
Murieta  Carrillo. 

The  bandits  •  under  him  represented  the  native 
discontent.  Their  acts  were  a  protest  against  the 
brutal  Americans.  They  were  goaded  on  by  the 
loss  of  all  property  rights.  This  harshness  drove 
the  Indians,  decimated,  drunken,  and  diseased, 
from  their  patrimonial  lands.  It  has  effected  the 
final  ruin  of  the  native  Californians.  Frontier  greed 
and  injustice  have  done  a  shameful  work. 

Maxime  Valois  blushes  for  his  own  nation.  He 
realizes  that  indigenous  dwellers  must  go  to  the  wall 
in  poverty,  to  their  death.  They  go  down  before 
the  rush  of  the  wolf  pack,  hunting  gold,  always 
gold. 

Taking  the  precaution  to  leave  men  to  bear  to 
him  any  messages  from  the  padre,  Maxime  leaves 
Lagunitas  for  Stockton.  The  affairs  of  the  com 
munity  call  him  home.  Property,  covered  by  his 
investments,  has  been  exposed  to  fire  and  flood  at 
Sacramento.  San  Francisco  has  been  half  destroyed 
by  a  great  conflagration.  These  calamities  make 
thousands  penniless. 

Before  he  rides  away,  old  Don  Miguel  comes  to 


LAGUNITAS.  1 71 

say  adieu  to  his  savior,  once  his  prisoner.  "  Sefior 
Americano,"  he  murmurs,  "  be  pleased  to  come 
to  my  house."  Followed  by  the  padre,  Valois 
enters.  There  Don  Miguel  bids  Donna  Juanita  and 
Dolores  thank  the  man  who  saved  his  life. 

"  I  shall  not  be  here  long,  Sefior  Abogado,"  he 
says ;  "  I  wish  you  and  the  padre  to  watch  over  my 
wife  and  child.  You  are  a  '  caballero  '  and  *  buen 
Cristiano.'  ' 

Padre  Francisco  has  proved  that  the  young  leader 
is  a  true  child  of  the  Church. 

The  finest  horse  on  the  rancho  is  led  to  the  door. 
It  is  trapped  with  Don  Miguel's  state  equipment. 
With  a  wave  of  the  hand,  he  says: 

"  Sefior,  vayase  V.  con  Dios.  That  horse  will 
never  fail  you.  It  is  the  pride  of  the  Lagunitas 
herds." 

Maxime  promises  to  aid  in  any  future  juncture. 
He  rides  out  from  lonely  Lagunitas,  near  which  tra 
dition  to-day  locates  those  fabulous  deposits,  the 
vanished  treasures  of  Joaquin,  the  mountain  robber. 

A  generation  glides  away.  The  riches,  long  sought 
for,  are  never  found.  This  blood-stained  gold  may 
lie  hidden  beneath  the  soil  of  Mariposa,  but  it  is 
beyond  human  ken. 

There  are  wild  rejoicings  at  Stockton.  Harry 
Love,  splendid  in  gayest  trappings,  is  the  hero  of 
the  hour.  The  dead  mountain  tiger  was  the  last 
leader  of  resistance  to  the  Americans.  The  hum 
bled  Mexicans  sink  into  the  condition  of  wandering 
helots.  The  only  possession  left  is  their  uncon 
querable  pride,  and  the  sadness  which  wraps  them 
in  a  gloomy  mantle. 


LAGUNITAS. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

THE  STRANGER'S  FOOT  AT  LAGUNITAS.    VALOIS' 
SPANISH  BRIDE. 

THROUGH  the  mines  runs  a  paean  of  rejoicing. 
The  roads  are  free  ;  Joaquin  is  slain  at  last.  Butcher 
bravos  tire  of  revenging  past  deeds  of  blood.  They 
slay  the  helpless  Indians,  or  assassinate  the  fright 
ened  native  Californians.  This  rude  revenge  ele 
ment,  stirred  up  by  Harry  Love's  exploit,  reaches 
from  Klamath  to  the  Colorado.  Yet  the  unsettled 
interior  is  destined  to  keep  up  the  sporadic  banditti 
of  the  valleys  for  years.  Every  glen  offers  an  easy 
ambush.  In  the  far  future  only,  the  telegraph  and 
railway  will  finally  cut  up  the  great  State  into  local 
ized  areas  of  civilization. 

All  the  whiskey-drinking  and  revolver-carrying 
bravos  must  be  swept  into  obscure  graves  before 
crime  can  cease.  It  becomes,  however,  occasional 
only.  While  bloody  hands  are  ready,  the  plotting 
brain  of  Joaquin  Murieta  never  is  equalled  by  any 
future  bandit. 

Coming  years  bring  Francisco  Garcia,  Sebastian 
Flores,  and  the  "  Los  Manilas  "  gang,  whose  seven 
teen  years  of  bloodshed  end  finally  at  the  gallows 
of  Los  Angeles.  Varrella  and  Soto,  Tiburcio  Vas- 
quez,  Santos  Lotello,  Chavez,  and  their  wild  Mexi 
can  brothers,  are  all  destined  to  die  by  shot  or  rope. 

"  Tom  Bell,"  "  Jack  Powers,"  and  other  American 
recruits  in  the  army  of  villany,  have  only  changed 
sides  in  their  crimes.  All  these  wretches  merit  the 


LAGUNITAS.  1/3 

deaths  awaiting  them.  The  last  purely  interna 
tional  element  of  discord  vanishes  from  the  records 
of  crime. 

Wandering  Americans  aptly  learn  stage-robbing. 
They  are  heirs  of  the  old  riders.  The  glories  of 
"  Black  Bart,"  the  lone  highwayman  of  eighty  stage- 
robberies,  and  the  "  train  robbers,"  are  reserved  for 
the  future.  But  Black  Bart  never  takes  life.  He 
robs  only  the  rich. 

Valois  appreciates  that  the  day  has  arrived  when 
legal  land  spoliation  of  the  Mexicans  will  succeed 
these  violent  quarrels.  Nothing  is  left  to  steal  but 
their  land.  That  is  the  object  of  contention  be 
tween  lawyers,  speculators,  squatters,  and  the  de 
fenceless  owners.  Their  domains  narrow  under 
mortgage,  interest,  and  legal  (?)  robbery. 

"Vae  victis !  "  The  days  of  confiscation  follow 
the  conquest. 

Hydraulic  mining,  quartz  processes,  and  corpo 
rate  effort  succeed  the  earlier  mining  attempts.  Two 
different  forces  are  now  in  full  energy  of  action. 

Hills  are  swept  bodily  into  the  river-beds,  in  the 
search  for  the  underlying  gold.  Rivers  and  mead 
ows  are  filled  up,  sand  covered,  and  ruined.  Forests 
are  thrown  down,  to  rot  by  wholesale.  Tunnels  are 
blasted  out.  The  face  of  nature  is  gashed  with  the 
quest  for  gold.  Banded  together  for  destruction, 
the  miners  leave  no  useful  landmark  behind  them. 
All  is  washed  away  and  sent  seaward  in  the  choking 
river-channels. 

The  home-makers,  in  peaceful  campaigns  of  seed 
time  and  harvest,  develop  new  treasures.  Great  in 
terests  are  introduced.  The  gold  of  field,  orchard, 


1/4  LAGUNITAS. 

and  harvest  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  industrious 
farmers.  These  are  the  men  whose  only  weapons 
are  scythe  and  sickle.  They  are  the  real  Fathers  of 
the  Pacific.  Roving  over  the  interior,  the  miners 
leave  a  land  as  nearly  ruined  as  human  effort  can 
render  it.  In  the  wake  of  these  nugget-hunters, 
future  years  bring  those  who  make  the  abandoned 
hills  lovely  with  scattered  homes.  They  are  now 
hidden  by  orchards,  vineyards,  and  gardens.  Peace 
ful  flocks  and  herds  prove  that  the  Golden  Age  of 
California  is  not  to  be  these  wild  days  of  the  bar 
baric  Forty-niner. 

Maxime  Valois  sees  the  land  sweeping  in  unri 
valled  beauty  to  the  Colorado.  Free  to  the  snowy 
peaks  of  the  Sacramento,  the  rich  plains  roll.  He 
knows  that  there  will  be  here  yet, 

"  Scattered  cities  crowning  these, 
Whose  far  white  walls  along  them  shine, 
With  fields  which  promise  corn  and  wine." 

He  realizes  that  transient  California  must  yield  to 
stable  conditions.  Some  civilized  society  will  suc 
ceed  the  masses  as  lacking  in  fibre  as  a  rope  of 
sand.  Already  the  days  of  roving  adventure  are  over. 
There  are  wanderers,  gamblers,  fugitives,  ex-crimi 
nals,  and  outcasts  enough  within  the  limits  of  the 
new  land.  Siren  and  adventuress,  women  of  name 
less  history  and  gloomy  future,  yet  abound.  They 
throng  the  shabby  temporary  camps  or  tent  cities. 
He  knows  there  is  no  self-perpetuation  in  the  mass 
of  men  roving  in  the  river  valleys.  Better  men 
must  yet  rule. 

A  visit  to  San   Francisco  and  other  large  places 


LAGUNITAS.  175 

proves  that  the  social  and  commercial  element  is 
supplied  from  the  Northern,  Eastern,  and  Middle 
States.  Their  professional  men  will  be  predominant 
also. 

In  the  interior,  the  farmers  of  the  West  and  the 
sagacious  planters  of  the  South  control. 

As  May-day  approaches,  Valois,  at  San  Francisco 
in  1853,  sees  a  procession  of  growing  children. 
There,  thousands  of  happy  young  faces  of  school 
children,  appear  bearing  roses  in  innocent  hands. 

Philip  Hardin  gives  him  the  details  of  the  coming 
struggle  of  North  and  South.  It  is  a  battle  for  the 
coast  from  Arizona  to  Oregon.  Lost  to  England, 
Russia,  and  France,  lost  to  the  Mormons  by  stupidity 
or  neglect,  this  West  is  lost  to  the  South  by  the  de 
feat  of  slavery.  Industrious  farmers  come,  in  fairly 
equal  numbers,  from  the  Northern  and  Southern 
agricultural  •  States.  The  people  of  the  Atlantic 
free  States  come  with  their  commerce,  capital,  and 
institutions.  The  fiat  of  Webster,  Clay,  and  Seward 
has  placed  the  guardian  angel  of  freedom  at  the 
gates  and  passes  of  California.  The  Southerner  can 
not  transfer  his  human  slave  capital  to  the  far  West. 
The  very  winds  sing  freedom's  song  on  the  wooded 
heights  of  the  Sierras. 

Philip  Hardin  sighs,  as  he  drains  his  glass, 
"Valois,  our  people  have  doomed  the  South  to  a 
secondary  standing  in  the  Union.  This  fatal 
blunder  in  the  West  ruins  us.  Benton  and  Fre 
mont's  precipitancy  thwarted  our  statesmen.  This 
gold,  the  votes  of  these  new  States,  the  future 
commerce,  the  immense  resources  of  the  West,  all 
are  cast  in  the  balance  against  us.  We  must  work 


1/6  LAGUNITAS. 

for  a  Western  republic.  We  must  wait  till  we  can 
fight  for  Southern  rights.  We  will  conquer  these 
ocean  States.  We  will  have  this  land  yet." 

The  legal  Mephisto  and  his  pupil  are  true  to  the 
Southern  cause.  Neither  of  them  can  measure  the 
coming  forces  of  Freedom.  Rosalie  Leese,  the  pio 
neer  white  child  of  California,  born  in  1838,  at 
Yerba  Buena,  was  the  first  of  countless  thousands 
of  free-born  American  children.  In  the  unpolluted 
West  the  breath  of  slavery  shall  never  blight  a 
single  human  existence.  .  Old  Captain  Richardson 
and  Jacob  Leese,  pioneers  of  the  magic  city  of  San 
Francisco,  gaze  upon  the  beautiful  ranks  of  smiling 
school-children,  in  happy  troops.  They  have  no 
regrets,  like  the  knights  of  slavery,  to  see  their 
places  in  life  filled  by  free-born  young  pilgrims  of 
life.  All  hail  the  native  sons  and  daughters  of  the 
Golden  West ! 

But  the  Southern  politicians  forge  to  the  front. 
The  majority  is  still  with  them.  They  carry  local 
measures.  Their  hands  are  only  tied  by  the  admis 
sion  of  California,  as  a  free  State.  Too  late  !  On 
the  far  borders  of  Missouri,  the  contest  of  Freedom 
and  Slavery  begins.  It  excites  all  America.  Bleed 
ing  Kansas!  Hard  in  explains  that  the  circle  of 
prominent  Southerners,  leading  ranchers,  Federal 
officials,  and  officers  of  the  army  and  navy,  are  re 
lied  on  for  the  future.  The  South  has  all  the 
courts.  It  controls  the  legislature.  It  seeks  to 
cast  California's  voice  against  the  Union  in  the 
event  of  civil  war.  As  a  last  resort  they  will  swing 
it  off  in  a  separate  sovereignty — a  Lone  Star  of  the 
West. 


LAGUNITAS.  1/7 

"  We  must  control  here  as  we  did  in  Texas, 
Valois.  When  the  storm  arises,  we  will  be  annexed 
to  the  Southern  Confederacy." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  the  generation  of  the  War  was 
ripening  for  the  sickle  of  Death.  Filled  with  the 
sectional  glories  of  the  Mexican  war,  Hardin  could 
not  doubt  the  final  issue. 

"  Get  land,  Valois,"  he  cries.  "  Localize  yourself. 
When  this  State  is  thrown  open  to  slavery,  you  will 
want  your  natural  position.  Maxime,  you  ought  to 
have  a  thousand  field-hands  when  you  are  master 
at  Lagunitas.  You  can  grow  cotton  there." 

Valois  muses.  He  revolves  in  his  mind  the 
"Southern  movement."  Is  it  treason?  He  does 
not  stop  to  ask.  As  he  journeys  to  Stockton  he 
ponders.  Philip  Hardin  is  about  to  accept  a  place 
on^the  Supreme  Bench  of  the  State.  Not  to  ad 
vance  his  personal  fortunes,  but  to  be  useful  to  his 
beloved  South. 

While  the  banks,  business  houses  and  factories 
are  controlled  by  Northern  men:  while  the  pothouse 
politicians  of  Eastern  cities  struggle  in  ward  elec 
tions,  the  South  holds  all  the  Federal  honors.  The}' 
govern  society,  dominate  in  the  legislature  and  in 
the  courts.  They  dictate  the  general  superior  inter 
courses  of  men.  The  ardent  Southrons  rule  with 
iron  hand.  They  are  as  yet  only  combated  by  the 
pens  of  Northern-born  editors,  and  a  few  fearless 
souls  who  rise  above  the  meekly  bowing  men  of  the 
free  States. 

All  see  the  approaching  downfall  of  lawless  pleas 
ure  and  vicious  license  in  San  Francisco.  Slowly 
the  tide  of  respectable  settlement  rises.  It  bears 
12 


1 78  LAGUNITAS. 

away  the  scum  of  vice,  swept  into  the  Golden  Gates 
in  the  first  rush.  The  vile  community  of  escaped 
convicts  and  mad  adventurers  cannot  support  itself. 
"  The  old  order  changeth,  yielding  slowly  to  the 
new." 

At  the  head  of  all  public  bodies,  the  gentleman 
of  the  South,  quick  to  avenge  his  personal  honor, 
aims,  with  formal  "  code,"  and  ready  pistol,  to  dra 
goon  all  public  sentiment.  He  is  sworn  to  establish 
the  superiority  of  the  cavalier. 

The  first  Mayor  of  San  Francisco,  a  Congressman 
elect,  gifted  editor  Edward  Gilbert,  has  already 
fallen  in  an  affair  of  honor.  The  control  of  public 
esteem  depends  largely  on  prowess  in  the  duelling 
field.  Every  politician  lives  up  to  the  code. 

Valois  ponders  over  Hardin's  advice.  Averse  to 
routine  business,  fond  of  a  country  life,  he  decides 
to  localize  himself.  His  funds  have  increased.  His 
old  partner,  Joe  Woods,  is  now  a  man  of  wealth  at 
Sacramento.  Maxime  has  no  faith  in  quartz  mines. 
He  has  no  desires  to  invest  in  ship,  or  factory.  He 
ignores  commerce.  To  be  a  planter,  a  man  of  mark 
in  the  legislature,  to  revive  the  glories  of  the  Valois 
family,  is  the  lawyer's  wish.  While  he  passes  the 
tule-fringed  river-banks,  fate  is  leading  him  back  to 
Lagunitas.  He  has  led  a  lonely  life,  this  brilliant 
young  Creole.  In  the  unrest  of  his  blood,  under  the 
teachings  of  Hardin,  Valois  feels  the  future  may 
bear  him  away  to  unfought  fields.  The  grandsons 
of  those  who  fought  at  New  Orleans,  may  win  vic 
tories,  as  wonderful,  over  the  enemies  of  that  South, 
even  if  these  foes  are  brothers  born. 

Gliding  towards  his  fate,  the  puppet  of  the  high 


LAGUNITAS.  179 

gods,  Maxime  Valois  may  dream  of  the  surrender 
of  Fort  Sumter,  and  of  the  Southern  Cross  soaring 
high  in  victory.  Appomattox  is  far  hidden  be 
yond  battle-clouds  of  fields  yet  to  come  !  The  long 
road  thither  has  not  yet  been  drenched  with  the 
mingled  blood  of  warring  brethren.  Dreams  !  Idle 
dreams!  Glory!  Ambition!  Southern  rights! 

At  Stockton,  Valois  receives  tidings  from  Padre 
Francisco.  Clouds  are  settling  down  on  Lagunitas. 
Squatters  are  taking  advantage  of  the  defenceless 
old  Mexican.  If  the  Don  would  save  his  broad 
acres,  he  must  appear  in  the  law-courts  of  the  con 
querors. 

Alas  !  the  good  old  days  are  gone,  when  the  whole 
State  of  California  boasted  not  a  single  lawyer. 
These  are  new  conditions.  The  train  of  loyal  re 
tainers  will  never  sweep  again  out  of  the  gates  of 
Lagunitas,  headed  by  the  martial  Commandante,  in 
all  the  bravery  of  rank  and  office.  It  is  the  newer 
day  of  gain  and  greed. 

Prospecting  miners  swarm  over  Mariposa.  The 
butterflies  are  driven  from  rocky  knol-1  and  fragrant 
bower  by  powder  blasts.  The  woods  fall  under  the 
ringing  axe  of  the  squatter.  Ignorant  of  new  laws 
and  strange  language;  strong  only  in  his  rights; 
weak  in  years,  devoid  of  friends,  Don  Miguel's 
hope  is  the  sage  counsel  of  Padre  Francisco.  The 
latter  trusts  to  Valois'  legal  skill. 

As  adviser,  Valois  repairs  to  Lagunitas.  Old 
patents,  papers  heavy  with  antique  seal  and  black 
with  stately  Spanish  flourish,  are  conned  over. 
Lines  are  examined,  witnesses  probed,  defensive 
measures  taken. 


180  LAGUNITAS. 

Maxime  sits;  catechizes  the  Don,  the  anxious 
Donna  Juanita,  and  the  padre.  Wandering  by  the 
shores  of  Lagunitas,  Valois  notes  the  lovely  reflec 
tion  of  the  sweet-faced  Dolores  in  the  crystal  waters. 
The  girl  is  fair  and  modest.  Francois  Ribaut  often, 
wonders  if  the  young  man  sees  the  rare  beauty  of 
the  Spanish  maiden.  If  it  would  come  to  pass! 

Over  his  beads,  the  padre  murmurs,  "  It  may  be 
well.  All  well  in  time." 

The  cause  drags  on  slowly.  After  months,  the 
famous  case  of  the  Lagunitas  rancho  is  fought  and 
won. 

But  before  its  last  coil  has  dragged  out  of  the 
halls  of  justice,  harassed  and  broken  in  spirit,  Don 
Miguel  closes  his  eyes  upon  the  ruin  of  his  race. 
Born  to  sorrow,  Donna  Juanita  is  a  mere  shade  of 
womanly  sorrow.  She  is  not  without  comfort,  for 
the  last  of  the  Peraltas  has  placed  his  child's  hand 
in  that  of  Maxime  Valois  and  whispered  his  bless 
ing. 

"  You  will  be  good  to  my  little  Dolores,  amigo 
mio,"  murmurs  the  old  man.  He  loves  the  man 
whose  lance  has  been  couched  in  his  behalf.  The 
man  who  saved  his  life  and  lands. 

Padre  Francisco  is  overjoyed.  He  noted  the 
drawing  near  of  the  young  hearts.  A  grateful  flash, 
lighting  the  shining  eyes  of  Dolores,  told  the  story 
to  Maxime.  His  defence  of  her  father,  his  cham 
pionship  of  the  family  cause,  his  graceful  demeanor 
fill  sweet  Dolores'  idea  of  the  perfect  "  caballero." 

The  priest  with  bell,  book,  and  candle,  gives  all 
the  honors  of  the  Church  to  the  last  lord  of  Laguni 
tas.  Hard  by  the  chapel,  the  old  ranchero  rests 


LAGUNITAS.  l8l 

surrounded  by  the  sighing  forest.  It  is  singing  the 
same  unvarying  song,  breathing  incense  from  the 
altars  of  nature  over  the  stout  soldier's  tomb. 

He  has  fought  the  fight  of  his  race  in  vain.  When 
the  roses'  leaves  drift  a  second  time  on  the  velvet 
turf,  Maxime  Valois  receives  the  hand  of  Dolores 
from  her  mother.  The  union  is  blessed  by  the  in 
vocation  of  his  priestly  friend.  It  is  a  simple  wed 
ding.  Bride  and  groom  are  all  in  all  to  each  other. 
There  are  none  of  the  Valois,  and  not  a  Peralta  to 
join  in  merrymaking. 

Padre  Francisco  and  Donna  Juanita  are  happy  in 
the  knowledge  that  the  shy  bird  of  the  mountains 
is  mated  with  the  falcon-eyed  Creole.  He  can  de 
fend  the  lordly  heritage  of  Lagunitas.  So,  in  the 
rosy  summer  time,  the  foot  of  the  stranger  passes 
as  master  over  the  threshold  of  the  Don's  home. 
The  superb  domain  passes  under  the  dominion  of 
the  American.  One  by  one  the  old  holdings  of 
the  California!!  families  pass  away.  The  last  of  the 
Dons,  sleeping  in  the  silence  of  the  tomb,  are  spared 
the  bitterness  of  seeing  their  quaint  race  die  out. 
The  foreigner  is  ruling  within  their  gates.  Their 
unfortunate,  scattered,  and  doomed  children  perish 
in  the  attrition  of  a  newer  civilization. 

Narrow-minded,  but  hospitable ;  stately  and  loyal ; 
indifferent  to  the  future,  suspicious  of  foreigners, 
they  are  utterly  unable  to  appreciate  progress. 
They  are  powerless  to  develop  or  guard  their 
domains.  Abandoned  by  Mexico,  preyed  on  by 
squatters,  these  courtly  old  rancheros  are  now  a 
memory  of  the  past. 

This  wedding  brings  life  to  Lagunitas.      The  new 


1 82  LAGUNITAa 

suzerain  organizes  a  working  force.  It  is  the  transi 
tion  period  of  California.  Hundreds  of  thousands 
of  acres  only  wait  for  the  magic  artesian  well  to 
smile  in  plenty.  Valois  gathers  up  the  reins.  Only 
a  few  pensioners  remain.  The  nomadic  cavalry  of 
the  natives  has  disappeared.  The  suggestion  of 
"work"  sets  them  "  en  route."  They  drift  towards 
the  Mexican  border.  The  flocks  and  herds  are 
guarded  by  corps  of  white  attendants.  The  farm 
succeeds  the  ranch. 

Maxime  Valois  gives  his  wife  her  first  sight  of 
the  Queen  City.  The  formalities  of  receiving  the 
"  patent  "  call  him  to  San  Francisco. 

Padre  Francisco  remains  with  Donna  Juanita. 
The  new  rule  is  represented  by  "  Kaintuck,"  an 
energetic  frontiersman,  whose  vast  experience  in 
occasional  warfare  and  frequent  homicide  is  a  guar 
antee  of  finally  holding  possession.  This  worthy 
left  all  his  scruples  at  home  in  Kentucky,  with  his 
proper  appellation.  He  is  a  veteran  ranger. 

As  yet  the  lands  yield  no  regular  harvests.  The 
ten-leagues-square  tract  produces  less  fruit,  garden 
produce,  and  edibles,  than  a  ten-acre  Pennsylvania 
field  in  the  Wyoming.  But  the  revenue  is  large 
from  the  cattle  and  horses.  The  cattle  are  as  wild 
as  deer.  The  horses  are  embodiments  of  assorted 
11  original  sin,"  and  as  agile  as  mountain  goats. 
Valois  knows,  however,  the  income  will  be  ample 
for  general  improvements. 

His  policy  matures.  He  encourages  the  settle 
ment  of  Southerners.  He  rents  in  subdivisions  his 
spare  lands. 

The  Creole,  now  a  landlord,   hears  the  wails   of 


LAGUNITAS.  183 

short-sighted  men.  They  mourn  the  green  sum 
mers,  the  showery  months  of  the  East.  Moping  in 
idleness,  they  assert  that  California  will  produce 
neither  cereal  crops,  fruits,  nor  vegetables.  Prophets, 
indeed !  The  golden  hills  look  bare  and  drear  to 
strangers'  eyes.  The  brown  plains  please  not. 

In  the  great  realm,  apples,  potatoes,  wheat,  corn, 
the  general  cereals  and  root  crops  are  supposed  to 
be  impossible  productions.  Gold,  wild  cattle,  and 
wilder  mustangs  are  the  returns  of  El  Dorado. 
Cultivation  is  in  its  infancy. 

The  master  departs  with  the  dark-eyed  bride. 
She  timidly  follows  his  every  wish.  Dolores  has 
the  education  imparted  by  gentle  Padre  Francisco. 
It  makes  her  capable  of  mentally  expanding  in  the 
experiences  of  the  first  journey.  The  gentle  refine 
ment  of  her  race  completes  her  charms. 

To  the  bride,  the  steamer,  the  sights  of  the  bay, 
crowded  with  shipping,  and  the  pageantry  of  the 
city  are  dazzling.  The  luxuries  of  city  life  are 
wonders.  Relying  on  her  husband,  she  glides  into 
her  new  position.  Childishly  pleased  at  the  jewels, 
ornaments,  and  toilets  soon  procured  in  the  me 
tropolis,  Donna  Dolores  Valois  is  soon  one  of  Eve's 
true  daughters,  arrayed  like  the  lily. 

Months  roll  away.  The  stimulus  of  a  brighter 
life  develops  the  girl  wife  into  a  sweetly  radiant 
woman. 

Maxime  Valois  rejoins  Philip  Hardin.  He  is  now 
a  judge  of  the-  Supreme  Court.  Stormy  days  are 
these  of  1855  and  the  spring  of  1856. 

Deep  professional  intrigues  busy  Valois.  Padre 
Francisco  and  "  Kaintuck  "  announce  the  existence  of 


1 84  LAGUNITAS. 

supposed  quartz  mines  on  the  rancho.  Valois  will 
not  pause  in  his  occupations  to  risk  explorations. 

For  the  Kansas  strife,  the  warring  of  sections, 
and  the  growing  bitterness  of  free  and  slave  State 
men  make  daily  life  a  seething  cauldron.  Southern 
settlers  are  pouring  into  the  interior.  They  shun 
the  cities.  In  city  and  country,  squatter  wars,  over 
lot  and  claim,  excite  the  community.  San  Fran 
cisco  is  a  hotbed  of  politicians  and  roughs  of  the 
baser  sort.  While  the  Southerners  generally  con 
trol  the  Federal  and  State  offices,  Hardin  feels  the 
weakness  in  their  lines  has  been  the  journalistic 
front  of  their  party.  Funds  are  raised.  Pro-slavery 
journals  spring  into  life.  John  Nugent,  Pen  John 
ston,  and  O'Meara  write  with  pens  dipped  in  gall, 
and  the  ready  pistol  at  hand.  Tumult  and  fracas 
disgrace  bench,  bar,  legislature,  and  general  society. 
The  great  wars  of  Senators  Gwin  and  Broderick 
precede  the  separation  of  Northern  and  Southern 
Democrats.  As  the  summer  of  1856  draws  on,  cor 
ruption,  violence,  and  sectional  hatred  bitterly 
divide  all  citizens.  School  and  Church,  journal 
and  law-giver,  work  for  the  right.  The  strain  on 
the  community  increases.  While  the  -coast  and 
interior  is  dotted  with  cities  and  towns,  and  the 
Mint  pours  out  floods  of  ringing  gold  coins,  there 
is  no  confidence.  Farm  and  factory,  ship  and  wagon 
train,  new  streets,  extension  of  the  city  and  mate 
rial  progress  show  every  advancement.  But  a  great 
gulf  yawns  between  the  human  wave  of  old  adven 
turers,  and  the  home-makers,  now  sturdily  battling 
for  the  inevitable  victory. 

The    plough    is   speeding  in  a  thousand   furrows 


LAGUNITAS.  185 

everywhere.  Cattle  and  flocks  are  being  graded 
and  improved.  Far-sighted  men  look  to  franchise 
and  public  association.  The  day  dawns  when  _ the 
giant  gaming  hells,  flaunting  palaces  of  sin,  and  the 
violent  army  of  miscreants  must  be  suppressed. 

Everywhere,  California  shows  the  local  irritation 
between  the  buccaneers  of  the  first  days,  and  the 
resolute,  respectable  citizens.  The  latter  are  united 
in  this  local  cause,  though  soon  to  divide  politically 
on  the  battle-field. 

Driven  from  their  lucrative  vices  of  old,  the  de 
praved  element,  at  the  polls,  overawes  decency. 
San  Francisco's  long  wooden  wharves,  its  precipi 
tous  streets,  its  crowded  haunts  of  the  transient,  and 
its  flashy  places  of  low  amusement  harbor  a  desper 
ate  gang.  They  are  renegades,  deserters,  and  scum 
of  every  seaport — graduates  of  all  human  villany. 
Aided  by  demagogues,  the  rule  of  the  "  Roughs  " 
nears  its  culmination.  Fire  companies,  militia, 
train  bands,  and  the  police,  are  rotten  to  the  core. 
In  this  upheaval,  affecting  only  the  'larger  towns, 
the  higher  classes  are  powerless. 

Cut  off,  by  the  great  plains,  from  the  central  gov 
ernment,  the  State  is  almost  devoid  of  telegraphs 
and  has  but  one  little  railroad.  It  has  hostile 
Indians  yet  on  its  borders.  The  Chinese  come 
swarming  in  like  rats.  The  situation  of  California 
is  critical. 

Personal  duels  and  disgraceful  quarrels  convulse 
high  life.  The  lower  ranks  are  ruled  only  by  the 
revolver.  The  criminal  stalks  boldly,  unpunished, 
in  the  streets. 

The  flavor  of  Americanism  is  no  leaven   to  this 


1 86  LAGUNITAS. 

ill-assorted  population.  The  exciting  presidential 
campaign,  in  which  Fremont  leads  a  new  party, 
excites  and  divides  the  better  citizens  of  the  com 
monwealth. 

Though  the  hills  are  now  studded  with  happy 
homes  and  the  native  children  of  the  Golden  West 
are  rising  in  promise,  all  is  unrest.  A  local  convul 
sion  turns  the  anger  of  better  elements  into  the  rev 
olution  of  the  Vigilance  Committee  of  1856.  James 
Casey's  pistol  rang  out  the  knell  of  the  "  Roughs  " 
when  he  murdered  the  fearless  editor  of  the  lead 
ing  journal. 

Valois,  uninterested  in  this  urban  struggle,  re 
turns  to  Lagunitas.  His  domain  rewards  his  energy. 

All  is  peace  by  the  diamond  lake.  Seftora  Do 
lores,  her  tutor,  Padre  Francisco,  and  the  placid 
Duenna  Juanita  make  up  a  pleasant  home  circle. 
It  is  brightened  by  luxuries  provided  by  the  new 
lord.  Maxime  Valois'  voice  is  heard  through  the 
valleys.  He  travels  in  support  of  James  Buchanan, 
the  ante-bellum  President.  For  is  not  John  C. 
Breckinridge,  the  darling  son  of  the  South,  as  vice- 
president  also  a  promise  of  Southern  success? 

San  Francisco  throws  off  its  criminals  by  a  spas 
modic  effort.  The  gallows  tree  has  borne  its  ghastly 
fruit.  Fleeing  "  Roughs "  are  self-expatriated. 
Others  are  unceremoniously  shipped  abroad.  The 
Vigilance  Committee  rules.  This  threshing  out  of 
the  chaff  gives  the  State  a  certain  dignity.  At 
least,  an  effort  has  been  made  to  purge  the  com 
munity.  All  in  all,  good  results — though  a  Judge 
of  the  Supreme  Court  sleeps  in  a  guarded  cell  as  a 
prisoner  of  self-elected  vindicators  of  the  law. 


LAGUNITAS.  187 

When  the  excitement  of  the  presidential  election 
subsides,  Maxime  Valois  joins  th^  banquets  of  the 
Democratic  victors.  The  social  atmosphere  is  purer. 
Progress  marks  the  passing  months.  The  State 
springs  forward  toward  the  second  decade  of  its 
existence.  There  is  local  calm,  while  the  national 
councils  potter  over  the  Pacific  railways.  Valois 
knows  that  the  great  day  of  Secession  approaches. 
The  Sons  of  the  South  will  soon  raise  the  banner 
of  the  Southern  Cross.  He  knows  the  purposes  of 
the  cabinet,  selected  by  the  conspirators  who  sur 
round  Buchanan.  Spring  sees  the  great  depart 
ments  of  the  government  given  over  to  those  who 
work  for  the  South.  They  will  arrange  government 
offices,  divide  the  army,  scatter  the  navy,  juggle  the 
treasury  and  prepare  for  the  coming  storm.  The 
local  bitterness  heightens  into  quarrels  over  spoils. 
Judge  Philip  Hardin,  well-versed  in  the  Secession 
plots,  feeds  the  ever-burning  pride  of  Valois.  From 
Kansas,  from  court  and  Congress,  from  the  far  East, 
the  murmur  of  the  "  irrepressible  conflict"  grows 
nearer.  Maxime  Valois  is  in  correspondence  with 
the  head  of  his  family.  While  at  Lagunitas,  the 
Creole  pushes  on  his  works  of  improvement.  He 
dreams  at  night  strange  dreams  of  more  brilliant 
successes.  Of  a  new  flag  and  the  triumph  of  the 
beloved  cause.  He  will  be  called  as  a  trusted 
Southron  into  the  councils  of  the  coast.  Will  they 
cut  it  off  under  the  Lone  Star  flag?  This  appeals 
to  his  ambition. 

There  are  omens  everywhere.  The  Free-State 
Democrats  must  be  suppressed.  The  South  must 
and  shall  rule. 


1 88  LAGUNITAS. 

He  often  dreams  if  war  and  tumult  will  ever  roll, 
in  flame  and  fire,  over  the  West.  The  mists  of  the 
future  veil  his  eyes.  He  waits  the  signal  from  the 
South.  All  over  California,  the  wealth  of  the  land 
peeps  through  its  surface  gilding.  There  are  no 
clouds  yet  upon  the  local  future.  No  burning  local 
questions  at  issue  here,  save  the  aversion  of  the 
two  sections,  distrustful  of  each  other. 

It  needs  only  the  mad  attack  of  John  Brown  upon 
Virginia's  slave-keepers  to  loose  the  passions  of  the 
dwellers  by  the  Pacific.  Martyr  or  murderer,  sage 
or  fanatic,  Brown  struck  the  blows  which  broke  the 
bonds  of  the  brotherhood  of  the  Revolution.  From 
the  year  1858,  the  breach  becomes  too  great  to 
bridge.  Secretly,  Southern  plans  are  perfected  to 
control  the  West.  While  the  conspiracy  slowly 
moves  on,  the  haughtiness  of  private  intercourse 
admits  of  no  peaceable  reunion.  Active  corre 
spondence  between  officials,  cool  calculations  of 
future  resources,  and  the  elevation  to  prominent 
places  of  men  pledged  to  the  South,  are  the  rapid 
steps  of  the  maturing  plans.  On  the  threshold  of 
war. 

For  the  senators,  representatives,  and  agents  in 
Washington  confidentially  report  that  the  code  of 
honor  is  needed  to  restrain  the  Northerners  under 
personal  dragooning.  Yankee  self-assertion  comes 
at  last. 

Around  the  real  leaders  of  thought  their  vassals 
are  ranged.  Davis,  Toombs,  Breckinridge,  Yancey, 
Pryor,  Wigfall,  Wise,  and  others  direct.  Herbert, 
Keith,  Lamar,  Brooks,  and  a  host  of  cavaliers  are 
ready  with  trigger  and  cartel.  The  tone  at  Wash- 


LAGUNITAS.  189 

ington  gives  the  keynote  to  the  Californian  agents 
of  the  Southern  Rights  movement.  There  are  not 
enough  Potters,  Wades,  and  Landers,  as  yet.  The 
Northern  mind  needs  time  to  realize  the  delibera 
tion  of  Secession. 

The  great  leaders  of  the  free  States  are  dead  or 
in  the  gloomy  retirement  of  age.  Webster  and 
Clay  are  no  more.  There  are  yet  men  of  might  to 
fight  under  the  banners  streaming  with  the  northern 
lights  of  freedom.  Douglas,  Bell,  Sumner,  Seward, 
and  Wade  are  drawing  together.  Grave-faced 
Abraham  Lincoln  moves  out  of  the  background  of 
Western  woods  into  the  sunrise  glow  of  Liberty's 
brightest  day. 

On  the  Pacific  coast,  restraint  has  never  availed. 
Here,  ancestry  and  rank  go  for  naught.  Here,  men 
meet  without  class  pride.  The  struggle  is  more 
equal. 

California's  Senator,  David  C.  Broderick,  was  the 
son  of  an  humble  New  York  stone-cutter.  He 
grapples  with  his  wily  colleague,  Senator  Gwin. 

It  is  hammer  against  rapier.  Richard  and  Sala- 
din.  Beneath  the  banners  of  the  chieftains  the 
free  lances  of  the  Pacific  range  themselves.  Neither 
doubts  the  courage  of  the  opposing  forces.  The 
blood  of  the  South  has  already  followed  William 
Walker,  the  gray-eyed  man  of  destiny,  to  Sonora  and 
Nicaragua.  They  were  a  splendid  band  of  modern 
buccaneers.  Henry  A.  Crabbe  found  that  the  Mex 
ican  escopetas  are  deadly  in  the  hands  of  the  mad 
dened  inhabitants  of  Arispe.  Raousset  de  Boulbon 
sees  his  Southern  followers  fall  under  machete  and 
revolver  in  northern  Mexico.  The  Southern  filibus- 


1 90  LAGUNITAS. 

ters  are  superbly  reckless.  All  are  eager  to  repeat 
the  glories  of  Texas  and  Mexico.  They  find  that 
the  Spanish  races  of  Central  America  have  learned 
bitter  lessons  from  the  loss  of  Texas.  They  know 
of  the  brutal  conquest  of  California.  The  cry  of 
"  Muerte  los  Americanos!"  rings  from  Tucson  to 
Darien.  The  labors  of  conquest  are  harder  now 
for  the  self-elected  generalissimos  of  these  robber 
bands.  "  Extension  of  territory "  is  a  diplomatic 
euphemism  for  organized  descents  of  desperate  mur 
derers.  The  wholesome  lessons  of  the  slaughter 
in  Sonora,  the  piles  of  heads  at  Arispe,  and  the 
crowded  graves  of  Rivas  and  Castillo,  with  the  exe 
cutions  in  Cuba,  prove  to  the  ambitious  Southrons 
that  they  will  receive  from  the  Latins  a  "  bloody 
welcome  to  hospitable  graves." 

As  the  days  glide  into  weeks  and  months,  the 
thirst  for  blood  of  the  martial  generation  over 
crowding  the  South  is  manifest.  On  the  threshold 
of  grave  events  the  leaders  of  Southern  Rights  re 
strain  further  foreign  attempts.  The  chivalry  is 
now  needed  at  home.  Foiled  in  Cuba  and  Central 
America,  restrained  by  the  general  government  from 
a  new  aggressive  movement  on  Mexico,  they  decide 
to  turn  their  faces  to  the  North.  They  will  carve 
out  a  new  boundary  line  for  slavery. 

The  natural  treasury  of  the  country  is  an  object 
of  especial  interest.  To  break  away  peaceably  is 
hardly  possible.  But  slavery  needs  more  ground 
for  the  increasing  blacks.  It  must  be  toward  the 
Pacific  that  the  new  Confederacy  will  gain  ground. 
Gold,  sea  frontage,  Asiatic  trade,  forests  and  fish- 
eries, — all  these  must  come  to  the  South.  It  is  the 


LAGUNITAS.  191 

final  acquisition  of  California.  It  was  apparently 
for  the  Union,  but  really  for  the  South,  that  the 
complacent  Polk  pounced  upon  California.  He 
waged  a  slyly  prepared  war  on  Mexico  for  slavery. 

As  the  restraints  of  courtesy  and  fairness  are 
thrown  off  at  Washington,  sectional  hostilities 
sweep  over  to  the  Western  coast.  The  bitterness 
becomes  intense.  Pressing  to  the  front,  champions 
of  both  North  and  South  meet  in  private  en 
counters.  They  admit  of  neither  evasion  nor  re 
treat. 

Maxime  Valois  is  ready  to  shed  his  blood  for  the 
land  of  the  palmetto.  But  he  will  not  degrade 
himself  by  low  intrigue  or  vulgar  encounter. 

He  learns  without  regret  of  the  extinction  of  the 
filibusters  in  Sonora,  on  the  Mexican  coast,  Cuba, 
and  Central  America.  He  knows  it  is  mad  piracy. 

Valois  sorrows  not  when  William  Walker's  blood 
slakes  the  stones  of  the  plaza  at  Truxillo.  A  con 
summation  devoutly  to  be  wished. 

It  is  for  the  whole  South  he  would  battle.  It  is 
the  glorious  half  of  the  greatest  land  on  the  globe. 
For  her  great  rights,  under  her  banner,  for  State 
sovereignty  he  would  die.  On  some  worthy  field, 
he  would  lead  the  dauntless  riflemen  of  Louisiana 
into  the  crater  of  death. 

There,  would  be  the  patriot's  pride  and  the  sol 
dier's  guerdon  of  valor.  He  would  be  in  the  van 
of  such  an  uprising.  He  scorns  to  be  a  petty  buc 
caneer,  a  butcher  of  half-armed  natives,  a  rover  and 
a  robber.  In  every  scene,  through  the  days  of 
1859,  Valois  bears  himself  as  a  cavalier.  Personal 
feud  was  not  his  object. 


IQ2  LAGUNITAS. 

In  the  prominence  of  his  high  position,  Valois 
travels  the  State.  He  confers  with  the  secret  coun 
cils  at  San  Francisco.  He  is  ready  to  lead  in  his 
regions  when  needed.  The  dark  cabal  of  Seces 
sion  sends  out  trusty  secret  agents,  even  as  Gillespie 
and  Larkin  called  forth  the  puppets  of  Polk, 
Buchanan  and  Marcy  to  action.  Valois  hopes  his 
friends  can  seize  California  for  the  South.  Fenced 
off  from  Oregon  and  the  East  by  the  Sierras,  there 
is  the  open  connection  with  the  South  by  Arizona. 

A  few  regiments  of  Texan  horse  can  hold  this 
great  gold-field  for  the  South.  Valois  deems  it 
impossible  for  California  to  be  recaptured  if  once 
won.  He  knows  that  Southern  agents  are  ready  to 
stir  up  the  great  tribes  of  the  plains  against  the 
Yankees.  The  last  great  force,  the  United  States 
Navy,  is  to  be  removed.  Philip  Hardin  tells  him 
how  the  best  ships  of  the  navy  are  being  disman 
tled,  or  ordered  away  to  foreign  stations.  Great 
frigates  are  laid  up  in  Southern  navy-yards.  Ord 
nance  supplies  and  material  are  pushed  toward  the 
Gulf.  Appropriations  are  expended  to  aid  these 
plans.  The  leaders  of  the  army,  now  scattered 
under  Southern  commanders,  are  ready  to  turn 
over  to  the  South  the  whole  available  national  ma 
terial  of  war.  Never  dreaming  of  aught  but  success, 
Valois  fears  only  that  he  may  be  assigned  to  West 
ern  duties.  This  will  keep  him  from  the  triumphal 
marches  over  the  North.  He  may  miss  the  glories 
of  that  day  when  Robert  Toombs  calls  the  roll  of 
his  blacks  at  Bunker  Hill  Monument.  In  the  prime 
of  life  and  vigor  of  mind,  he  is  rich.  He  has  now  a 
tiny  girl  child,  gladdening  sweet  Seftora  Dolores. 


LAGUNITAS.  193 

His  domain  blossoms  like  the  rose.  Valois  has 
many  things  to  tie  him  to  San  Joaquin.  His 
princely  possessions  alone  would  satisfy  any  man. 
But  he  would  leave  all  this  to  ride  with  the  Southern 
hosts  in  their  great  northward  march.  Dolores  sits 
often  lonely  now,  on  the  porch  of  the  baronial  resi 
dence  which  has  grown  up  around  the  Don's  old 
adobe  mansion.  Her  patient  mother  lies  under  the 
roses,  by  the  side  of  Don  Miguel. 

Padre  Francisco,  weaned  of  the  mental  death  in 
life  of  these  lonely  hills,  has  delayed  his  return  to 
France  only  by  the  appeals  of  Maxime  Valois.  He 
wants  a  friend  at  Lagunitas  if  he  takes  the  field.  If 
he  should  be  called  East,  who  would  watch  over  his 
wife  and  child  ?  Francois  Ribaut,  a  true  French 
man  at  heart,  looks  forward  to  some  quiet  cloister, 
where  he  can  see  once  more  the  twin  towers  of 
Notre  Dame.  The  golden  dome  of  the  Invalides 
calls  him  back.  He  sadly  realizes  that  his  life  has 
been  uselessly  wasted.  The  Indians  are  either  cut 
off,  chased  away,  or  victims  of  fatal  diseases.  The 
Mexicans  have  fallen  to  low  estate.  Their  numbers 
are  trifling.  He  has  no  flock.  He  is  only  a  lonely 
shepherd.  With  the  Americans  his  gentle  words 
avail  nothing.  The  Catholics  of  the  cities  have 
brought  a  newer  Church  hierarchy  with  them. 
"  Home  to  France,"  is  his  longing  now. 

In  the  interior,  quarrels  bring  about  frequent  per 
sonal  encounters  between  political  disputants.  The 
Northern  sympathizers,  stung  by  jeer,  and  pushed 
to  the  wall,  take  up  their  weapons  and  stand  firm — 
a  new  fire  in  their  eyes.  The  bravos  of  slavery 
meet  fearless  adversaries.  In  the  cities,  the  wave 
13 


IQ4  LAGUNITAS. 

of  political  bitterness  drowns  all  friendly  impulses. 
Every  public  man  takes  his  life  in  his  hand.  The 
wars  of  Broderick  and  Gwin,  Field  and  Terry,  con 
vulse  the  State.  Lashed  into  imprudence  by  each 
other's  attacks,  David  C.  Broderick  and  David  S. 
Terry  look  into  each  other's  pistols.  They  stand 
face  to  face  in  the  little  valley  by  Merced  Lake. 
Sturdy  Colton,  and  warm-hearted  Joe  McKibbin, 
second  the  fearless  Broderick.  Hayes  and  the  chiv- 
alric  Calhoun  Benham  are  the  aids  of  the  lion- 
hearted  Terry.  It  is  a  meeting  of  giants.  Resolu 
tion  against  deadly  nerve.  Brave  even  to  rashness, 
both  of  them  know  it  is  the  first  blood  of  the  fight 
between  South  and  North.  Benham  does  well  as, 
with  theatrical  flourish,  he  casts  Terry's  money  on 
the  sod.  The  grass  is  soon  to  be  stained  with  the 
blood  of  a  leader.  This  is  no  mere  money  quarrel. 
It  is  a  duel  to  the  death ;  a  calm  assertion  of  the 
fact  that  neither  in  fray,  in  the  forum,  nor  on  the 
battle-field,  will  the  North  go  back  one  inch.  It  is 
high  time. 

Broderick,  the  peer  of  his  superb  antagonist, 
knows  that  the  pretext  of  Terry's  challenge  is  a 
mere  excuse.  It  is  first  blood  in  the  inevitable 
struggle  for  the  western  coast.  With  no  delay,  the 
stout-hearted  champions,  friends  once,  stand  as  foes 
in  conflict.  David  Terry's  ball  cuts  the  heart-strings 
of  a  man  who  had  been  his  loving  political  brother. 
His  personal  friend  once  and  a  gallant  comrade. 
Broderick's  blood  marks  the  fatal  turning-off  of  the 
Northern  Democrats  from  their  Southern  brothers. 
As  Terry  lowers  his  pistol,  looking  unpityingly  at 
the  fallen  giant,  he  does  not  realize  he  has  cut  the 


LAGUNITAS.  195 

cords  tying  the  West  to  the  South.  It  was  a  fatal 
deed,  this  brother's  murder.  It  was  the  mistake  of 
a  life,  hitherto  high  in  purpose.  The  implacable 
Terry  would  have  shuddered  could  he  have  looked 
over  the  veiled  mysteries  of  thirty  years  to  come. 
It  was  beyond  human  ken.  Even  he  might  have 
blenched  at  the  strange  life-path  fate  would  lead 
him  over.  Over  battle-fields  where  the  Southern 
Cross  rises  and  falls  like  Mokanna's  banner,  back 
across  deserts,  to  die  under  the  deadly  aim  of  an 
obscure  minion  of  the  government  he  sought  to 
pull  down.  After  thirty  years,  David  S.  Terry, 
judge,  general,  and  champion  of  the  South,  was 
destined  to  die  at  the  feet  of  his  brother-judge, 
whose  pathway  inclined  Northwardly  from  that  ill- 
starred  moment. 

Maxime  Valois  saw  in  the  monster  memorial  meet 
ing  on  the  plaza,  that  the  cause  of  the  South  was 
doomed  in  the  West.  While  Baker's  silver  voice 
rises  in  eulogy  over  Broderick,  the  Louisianian  sees 
a  menace  in  the  stern  faces  of  twenty  thousand 
listeners.  The  shade  of  the  murdered  mechanic- 
senator  hovers  at  their  local  feast,  a  royal  Banquo, 
shadowy  father  of  political  kings  yet  to  be. 

The  clarion  press  assail  the  awful  deed.  Boldly, 
the  opponents  of  slavery  draw  out  in  the  commu 
nity.  There  is  henceforth  no  room  for  treason  on 
the  Western  coast.  Only  covert  conspiracy  can 
neutralize  the  popular  wave  following  Broderick's 
death.  Dissension  rages  until  the  fever  of  the 
Lincoln  campaign  exc.ites  the  entire  community. 
The  pony  express  flying  eastward,  the  rapidly  ap 
proaching  telegraph,  the  southern  overland  mail 


196  LAGUNITAS. 

with  the  other  line  across  the  plains,  bring  the  news 
of  Eastern  excitement.  Election  battles,  Southern 
menace,  and  the  tidings  of  the  triumph  of  Republi 
can  principles,  reach  the  Pacific.  Abraham  Lincoln 
is  the  elected  President. 

Valois  is  heavy-hearted  when  he  learns  of  the 
victory  of  freedom  at  the  polls.  He  would  be  glad 
of  some  broad  question  on  which  to  base  the  com 
ing  war.  His  brow  is  grave,  as  he  realizes  the  South 
must  now  bring  on  at  moral  disadvantage  the  con 
flict.  The  war  will  decide  the  fate  of  slavery. 
Broderick's  untimely  death  and  the  crushing  defeat 
of  the  elections  are  bad  omens.  It  is  with  shame 
he  learns  of  the  carefully  laid  plots  to  seduce  lead 
ing  officers  of  the  army  and  navy.  The  South  must 
bribe  over  officials,  and  locate  government  property 
for  the  use  of  the  conspirators.  It  labors  with 
intrigue  and  darkness,  to  prepare  for  what  he  feels 
should  be  a  gallant  defiance.  It  should  be  only  a 
solemn  appeal  to  the  god  of  battles. 

He  sadly  arranges  his  personal  affairs,  to  meet 
the  separations  of  the  future.  He  sits  with  his 
lovely,  graceful  consort,  on  the  banks  of  Lagunitas. 
He  is  only  waiting  the  throwing-off  of  the  disguise 
which  hides  the  pirate  gun-ports  of  the  cruiser, 
Southern  Rights.  The  hour  comes  before  the  roses 
bloom  twice  over  dead  Broderick,  on  the  stately 
slopes  of  Lone  Mountain. 


BOOK  III. 

GOING   HOME  TO  DIXIE:   STARS  AND 
STRIPES,  OR  STARS   AND   BARS? 

CHAPTER  X. 

A     JJTTLE      DINNER     AT     JUDGE      HARDIN'S.— THE 
KNIGHTS    OF   THE    GOLDEN   CIRCLE. 

THE  rain  drips  drearily  around  Judge  Hardin's 
spacious  residence  in  San  Francisco.  January,  1861, 
finds  the  sheltering  trees  higher.  The  embowered 
shade  hides  to-night  an  unusual  illumination.  Winter 
breezes  sigh  through  the  trees.  Showers  of  spray 
fall  from  acacia  and  vine.  As  the  wet  fog  drives 
past,  the  ship-lights  on  the  bay  are  almost  hidden. 
When  darkness  brings  out  sweeping  lines  of  the 
street-lamps,  many  carriages  roll  up  to  the  open 
doors. 

A  circle  of  twenty  or  thirty  intimates  gathers  in 
the  great  dining-room.  At  the  head  of  the  table, 
Hardin  welcomes  the  chosen  representatives  of  the 
great  Southern  conspiracy  in  the  West.  His  resi 
dence,  rarely  thrown  open  to  the  public,  has  grown 
with  the  rise  of  his  fortunes.  Philip  Hardin  must 


198  LAGUNITAS. 

be  first  in  every  attribute  of  a  leading  judge  and 
publicist.  Lights  burn  late  here  since  the  great 
election  of  1860.  Men  who  are  at  the  helm  of 
finance,  politics,  and  Federal  power  are  visitors. 
Editors  and  trusted  Southrons  drop  in,  by  twos 
and  threes,  secretly.  There  is  unwonted  social  ac 
tivity. 

The  idle  gossips  are  silent.  These  visitors  are  all 
men,  unaccompanied  by  their  families.  Woman's 
foot  never  crosses  this  threshold.  In  the  wings  of 
the  mansion,  a  lovely  face  is  sometimes  seen  at  a 
window.  It  is  a  reminder  of  the  stories  of  that 
concealed  beauty  who  has  reigned  years  in  the  man 
sion  on  the  hill. 

Is  it  a  marriage  impending  ?  Is  it  some  great 
scheme?  Some  new  monetary  institution  to  be 
launched? 

These  vain  queries  remain  unanswered.  There 
is  a  mystic  password  given  before  joining  the  feast. 
Southerners,  tried  and  true,  are  the  diners.  Maxime 
Valois  sits  opposite  his  associate.  It  is  not  only  a 
hospitable  welcome  the  Judge  extends,  but  the  mys 
tic  embrace  of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle. 
In  feast  and  personal  enjoyment  the  moments  fly 
by.  The  table  glitters  with  superb  plate.  It  is 
loaded  with  richest  wines  and  the  dainties  of 
the  fruitful  West.  The  board  rings  under  em 
phatic  blows  of  men  who  toast,  with  emphasis,  the 
"Sunny  South."  In  their  flowing  cups,  old  and 
new  friends  are  remembered.  There  is  not  one 
glass  raised  to  the  honor  of  the  starry  flag  which 
yet  streams  out  boldly  at  the  Golden  Gate. 

The  feast  is  of  conspirators  who  are  sworn  to  drag 


LAGUNITAS.  199 

that  flag  at  their  horses'  heels  in  triumph.  Men 
nurtured  under  it. 

Judge  Hardin  gives  the  signal  of  departure  for 
the  main  hall.  •  In  an  hour  or  so  they  are  joined  by 
others  who  could  not  attend  the  feast. 

The  meeting  of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle 
proceeds  with  mystic  ceremony.  The  windows, 
doors,  and  avenues  are  guarded.  In  the  grounds 
faithful  brothers  watch  for  any  sneaking  spy.  Every 
man  is  heavily  armed.  It  would  be  short  shrift  to 
the  foe  who  stumbles  on  this  meeting  of  deadly  im 
port. 

It  is  the  supreme  moment  to  impart  the  last 
orders  of  the  Southern  leaders.  The  Washington 
chiefs  assign  the  duties  of  each,  in  view  of  the  vio 
lent  rupture  which  will  follow  Lincoln's  inaugura 
tion. 

Fifty  or  sixty  in  number,  these  brave  and  desper 
ate  souls  are  ready  to  cast  all  in  jeopardy.  Life, 
fortune,  and  fame.  They  represent  every  city  and 
county  of  California. 

Hardin,  high  priest  of  this  awful  propaganda, 
opens  the  business  of  the  session  with  a  cool  state 
ment  of  facts.  Every  man  is  now  sworn  and  under 
obligation  to  the  work.  Hardin's  eye  kindles  as  he 
sees  these  brothers  of  the  Southern  Cross.  Each 
of  them  has  a  dozen  friends  or  subordinates  under 
him.  To  them  these  tidings  will  be  only  divulged 
under  the  awful  seal  of  the  death  penalty.  There 
are  scores  of  army  and  navy  officers  with  high 
civil  officials  on  the  coast  whose  finely  drawn 
scruples  will  keep  them  out  until  the  first  gun  is 
fired.  Then  these  powerful  allies,  freed  by  resigna- 


200  LAGUNITAS. 

tion,  can  come  in.  They  are  holding  places  of 
power  and  immense  importance  to  the  last.  The 
Knights  are  wealthy,  powerful,  and  desperate. 

As  Valois  hears  Hardin's  address;  he  appreciates 
the  labor  of  years,  in  weaving  the  network  which  is 
to  hold  California,  Arizona,  and  New  Mexico  for 
the  South.  Utah  and  Nevada  are  untenanted 
deserts.  The  Mormon  regions  are  neutral  and  only 
useful  as  a  geographical  barrier  to  Eastern  forces. 
Oregon  and  Washington  are  to  be  ignored.  There 
the  hardy  woodsmen  and  rugged  settlers  represent 
the  ingrained  "  freedom  worship  "  of  the  Northwest. 
They  are  farmers  and  lumbermen.  All  acknowl 
edge  it  useless  to  tempt  them  out  of  the  fold.  Ore 
gon's  star  gleams  now  firmly  fixed  in  the  banner 
of  Columbia.  And  the  great  Sierras  fence  them 
off. 

The  speaker  announces  that  each  member  of  the 
present  circle  will  be  authorized,  on  returning,  to 
organize  and  extend  the  circles  of  the  Order.  Noti 
fication  of  matters  of  moment  will  be  made  by 
qualified  members,  from  circle  to  circle.  Thus, 
orders  will  pass  quickly  over  the  State.  The  mo 
mentous  secrets  cannot  be  trusted  to  mail,  express, 
or  the  local  telegraphs. 

Hardin  calls  up  member  after  member,  to  give 
their  views.  The  general  plan  is  discussed  by  the 
circle.  Keen-eyed  secretaries  note  and  arrange 
opinions  and  remarks. 

Hardin  announces  that  all  arrangements  are  made 
to  use  every  initiated  member,  going  East,  as  bearers 
of  despatches.  They  are  available  for  special  inter 
views,  with  the  brothers  who  are  in  every  large 


LAGUNITAS.  2OI 

Northern  city  and  even  in  the  principal  centres  of 
Europe. 

Ample  funds  have  been  forthcoming  from  the 
liberal  leaders  of  the  local  movement.  Millions  are 
already  promised  by  the  branches  at  the  East. 

Wild  cheers  hail  Judge  Hardin's  address.  He 
outlines  the  policy,  so  artfully  laid  out,  for  the  cut 
off  Western  contingent.  In  foaming  wine,  the  fear 
less  coterie  pledges  the  South  till  the  rafters  ring 
again.  The  "  Bonnie  Blue  Flag"  rings  out,  as  it 
does  in  many  Western  households,  with  "  Dixie's  " 
thrilling  strains. 

The  summing  up  of  Hardin  is  concise  :  "  We  are 
to  hold  this  State  until  we  have  orders  to  open  hos 
tilities.  Our  numbers  must  not  be  reduced  by  vol 
unteers  going  East.  Our  presence  will  keep  the 
Yankee  troops  from  going  East.  We  want  the 
gold  of  the  mines  here,  to  sustain  our  finances.  We 
have  as  commanding  General,  Albert  Sidney  John 
ston,  the  ideal  soldier  of  America,  who  will  com 
mand  the  Mississippi.  Lee,  Beauregard,  and  Joe 
Johnston  will  operate  in  the  East.  The  fight  will 
be  along  the  border  lines.  We  will  capture  Wash 
ington,  and  seize  New  York  and  Philadelphia.  A 
grand  Southern  army  will  march  from  Richmond  to 
Boston,  Another  from  Nashville  to  Cincinnati  and 
Chicago.  Johnston  will  hold  on  here,  until  forced 
to  resign.  Many  officers  go  with  him.  We  shall 
know  of  this,  and  throw  ourselves  on  the  arsenals 
and  forts  here,  capturing  the  stores  and  batteries. 
The  militia  and  independent  companies  will  come 
over  to  us  at  once.  With  Judge  Downey,  a  Demo 
cratic  governor,  no  levies  will  be  called  out  against 


202  LAGUNITAS. 

us.  The  navy  is  all  away,  or  in  our  secret  control. 
Once  in  possession  of  this  State,  we  will  fortify  the 
Sierra  Nevada  passes.  We  are  prepared.  Con 
gress  has  given  us  $600,000  a  year  to  keep  up  the 
Southern  overland  mail  route.  It  runs  through 
slave-holding  territory  to  Arizona.  Every  station 
and  relay  has  been  laid  out  to  suit  us.  We  will 
have  trusty  friends  and  supplies,  clear  through 
Arizona  and  over  the  Colorado.  At  the  outbreak, 
we  will  seize  the  whole  system.  It  is  the  shortest 
and  safest  line." 

Hardin,  lauding  the  skilful  plans  of  a  compla 
cent  Cabinet  officer,  did  not  know  that  the  South 
ern  idea  was  to  connect  Memphis  direct  with  Los 
Angeles. 

It  was  loyal  John  Butterfield  of  New  York,  who 
artfully  bid  for  a  double  service  from  Memphis  and 
St.  Louis,  uniting  at  Fort  Smith,  Arkansas,  and  vir 
tually  defeated  this  sly  move  of  slavery. 

Judge  Hardin,  pausing  in  pride,  could  not  foresee 
that  Daniel  Butterfield,  the  gallant  son  of  a  loyal 
sire,  would  meet  the  chivalry  of  the  South  as  the 
Marshal  of  the  greatest  field  of  modern  times — 
awful  Gettysburg ! 

While  Hardin  plotted  in  the  West,  Daniel  But 
terfield  in  the  East  personally  laid  out  every  detail 
of  this  great  service,  so  as  to  checkmate  the  South 
ern  design,  were  the  Mississippi  given  over  to  loyal 
control. 

The  afterwork  of  Farragut  and  Porter  paralyzed 
the  Southern  line  of  advance ;  and  on  the  Peninsula, 
at  Fredericksburg,  at  Resaca  and  Chancellorsville, 
Major-General  Daniel  Butterfield  met  in  arms  many 


LAGUNITAS.  203 

of  the  men  who  listened  to  Hardin's  gibes  as  to  the 
outwitted  Yankee  mail  contractors. 

Hardin,  complacent,  and  with  no  vision  of  the 
awful  fields  to  come,  secure  in  his  well-laid  plans, 
resumes  : 

"  Thus  aided  through  Arizona  we  will  admit  a 
strong  column  of  Texan  dragoons.  We  shall  take 
Fort  Yuma,  Fort  Mojave,  and  the  forts  in  Arizona, 
as  well  as  Forts  Union  and  Craig  in  New  Mexico. 
We  will  then  be  able  to  control  the  northern  over 
land  road.  We  will  hold  the  southern  line,  and  our 
forces  will  patrol  Arizona.  Mexico  will  furnish  us 
ports  and  supplies. 

''Should  the  Northerners  attempt  to  push  troops 
over  the  plains^  we  will  attack  them,  in  flank,  from 
New  Mexico.  We  can  hold,  thus,  New  Mexico, 
Arizona,  southern  Utah,  and  all.  of  California,  by  our 
short  line  from  El  Paso  to  San  Diego.  We  are 
covered  on  one  flank  by  Mexico." 

The  able  brethren  are  ready  with  many  sugges 
tions.  Friendly  spies  in  the  Department  at  Wash 
ington  have  announced  the  intended  drawing  East 
of  the  regular  garrisons.  It  is  suggested  that  the 
forts,  and  in  fact  the  whole  State,  be  seized  while 
the  troops  are  in  transit. 

Another  proposes  the  fitting  out  of  several  swift 
armed  steam  letters-of-marque  from  San  Francisco, 
to  capture  .the  enormous  Yankee  tonnage  now 
between  China,  Cape  Horn,  Australia,  and  Califor 
nia.  The  whaling  fleet  is  the  object  of  another. 
He  advises  sending  a  heavily  armed  revenue 
cutter,  when  seized,  to  the  Behring  Sea  to  de 
stroy  the  spring  whalers  arriving  from  Honolulu 


204  LAGUNITAS. 

too  late  for  any  warning,  from  home,  of  the  hostil 
ities. 

A  number  of  active  committees  are  appointed. 
One,  of  veteran  rangers,  to  select  frontiersmen  to 
stir  up  the  Indians  to  attack  the  northern  overland 
mail  stations.  Another,  to  secretly  confer  with  the 
officers  of  the  United  States  Mint,  Custom-House, 
and  Sub-Treasury.  Another,  to  socially  engage  the 
leading  officers  of  the  army  and  navy,  and  win  them 
over,  or  develop  their  real  feelings.  Every  man  of 
mark  in  the  State  is  listed  and  canvassed. 

The  "  high  priest "  announces  that  the  families  of 
those  detailed  for  distant  duty  will  be  cared  for  by 
the  general  committee.  Each  member  receives  the 
mystic  tokens.  Orders  are  issued  to  trace  up  all 
stocks  of  arms  and  ammunition  on  the  coast. 

The  seizure  of  the  Panama  Railroad,  thus  cutting 
off  quick  movement  of  national  troops,  is  discussed. 
Every  man  is  ordered  to  send  in  lists  of  trusty  men 
as  soon  as  mustered  into  the  new  mystery.  Con 
venient  movements  of  brothers  from  town  to  town 
are  planned  out.  Only  true  sons  of  the  sunny 
South  are  to  be  trusted. 

In  free  converse,  the  duty  of  watching  well-known 
Unionists  is  enjoined  upon  all.  Name  by  name, 
dangerous  men  of  the  North  are  marked  down  for 
proscription  or  special  action.  "  Removal,"  per 
haps. 

With  wild  cheers,  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Cir 
cle  receive  the  news  that  the  South  is  s.urely  going 
out.  The  dream  long  dear  to  the  Southern  heart ! 
Any  attempt  of  the  senile  Buchanan  to  reinforce 
the  garrisons  of  the  national  forts  will  be  the  signal 


LAGUNITAS.  205 

for  the  opening  roar  of  the  stolen  guns.  They 
know  that  the  inauguration  of  Lincoln  on  March  4, 
1861,  means  war  without  debate.  He  dare  not 
abandon  his  trust.  He  will  be  welcomed  with  a 
shotted  salute  across  the  Potomac. 

When  the  move  "  en  masse  "  is  made,  the  guests, 
warmed  with  wine  and  full  of  enthusiasm,  file  away. 
Hardin  and  Valois  sit  late.  The  splashing  rain 
drenches  the  swaying  trees  of  the  Judge's  hillside 
retreat. 

Lists  and  papers  of  the  principal  men  on  both 
sides,  data  and  statistics  of  stock  and  military  sup 
plies,  maps,  and  papers,  are  looked  at.  The  deep 
boom  of  the  Cathedral  bell,  far  below  them,  beats 
midnight  as  the  two  friends  sit  plotting  treason. 

There  is  something  mystical  in  the  exact  hour  of 
midnight.  The  rich  note  startles  Hardin.  Cold, 
haughty,  crafty,  and  able,  his  devotion  to  the 
South  is  that  of  the  highest  moral  courage.  It  is 
not  the  exultation  which  culminates  rashly  on  the 
battle-field.  These  lurid  scenes  are  for  younger 
heroes. 

His  necessary  presence  in  the  West,  his  age  and 
rank,  make  him  invaluable,  out  of  harness.  His 
scheming  brain  is  needed,  not  his  ready  sword. 

He  pours  out  a  glass  of  brandy,  saying,  "  Valois, 
tell  me  of  our  prospects  here.  You  know  the 
interior  as  well  as  any  man  in  the  State." 

Maxime  unburdens  his  mind.  "  Judge,  I  fear  we 
are  in  danger  of  losing  this  coast.  I  have  looked 
over  the  social  forces  of  the  State.  The  miners 
represent  no  principle.  They  will  cut  no  figure  on 
either  side.  They  would  not  be  amenable  to  dis- 


206  LAGUNITAS. 

cipline.  The  Mexicans  certainly  will  not  sympathize 
with  us.  We  are  regarded  as  the  old  government 
party.  The  Black  Republicans  are  the  *  liberals.' 
The  natives  have  lost  all,  under  us.  We  will  find 
them  fierce  enemies.  We  cannot  undo  the  treat 
ment  of  the  Dons."  Hardin  gravely  assents. 

"  Now,  as  to  the  struggle.  Our  people  are  enthu 
siastic  and  better  prepared.  The  nerve  of  the  South 
will  carry  us  to  early  victory.  The  North  thinks 
we  do  not  mean  fight.  Our  people  may  neglect  to 
rush  troops  from  Texas  over  through  Arizona.  We 
should  hold  California  from  the  very  first.  I  know 
the  large  cities  are  against  us.  The  Yankees  con 
trol  the  shipping  and  have  more  money  than  we. 
We  should  seize  this  coast,  prey  on  the  Pacific  fleets, 
strike  a  telling  blow,  and  with  Texan  troops  (who 
will  be  useless  there)  make  sure  of  the  only  gold- 
yielding  regions  of  America.  Texas  is  safe.  We 
hold  the  Gulf  at  New  Orleans.  Yankee  gunboats 
cannot  reach  the  shallow  Texas  harbors.  Unless 
we  strike  boldly  now,  the  coast  is  lost  forever.  If 
our  people  hold  the  Potomac,  the  Ohio,  and  the 
Missouri  (after  a  season's  victories),  without  tak 
ing  Cincinnati  and  Washington,  and  securing  this 
coast,  we  will  go  down,  finally,  when  the  North 
wakes  up.  Its  power  is  immense.  If  Europe  rec 
ognizes  us  we  are  safe.  I  fear  this  may  not  be." 

"  And  you  think  the  Northerners  will  fight,"  says 
Hardin. 

"  Judge,"  replies  Valois,  "  you  and  I  are  alone. 
I  tell  you  frankly  we  underestimate  the  Yankees. 
From  the  first,  on  this  coast  we  have  lost  sympathy. 
They  come  back  at  us  always.  Broderick's  death 


LAGUNITAS.  2O; 

shows  us  these  men  have  nerve."  Valois  contin 
ues:  "That  man  is  greater  dead  than  alive.  I 
often  think  of  his  last  words,  *  They  have  killed 
me  because  I  was  opposed  to  a  corrupt  administra 
tion  and  the  extension  of  slavery.'  " 

Hardin  finishes  his  glass.  "  It  seems  strange 
that  men  like  Broderick  and  Terry,  who  sat  on  the 
bench  of  the  Supreme  Court  (a  senator  and  a  great 
jurist),  should  open  the  game.  It  was  unlucky.  It 
lost  us  the  Northern  Democrats.  We  would  have 
been  better  off  if  Dave  Terry  had  been  killed.  He 
would  have  been  a  dead  hero.  It  would  have 
helped  us." 

Valois  shows  that,  in  all  the  sectional  duels  and 
killings  on  the  coast,  the  South  has  steadily  lost 
prestige.  The  victims  were  more  dangerous  dead 
than  alive.  Gilbert,  Ferguson,  Broderick,  and  oth 
ers  were  costly  sacrifices. 

Hardin  muses :  "  I  think  you  are  right,  Maxime, 
in  the  main.  Our  people  are  in  the  awkward  posi 
tion  of  fighting  the  Constitution,  and  the  old  flag  is 
a  dead  weight  against  us.  We  must  take  the  initi 
ative  in  an  unnecessary  war.  This  Abe  Lincoln  is 
no  mere  mad  fool.  I  will  send  a  messenger  East, 
and  urge  that  ten  thousand  Texan  cavalry  be  pushed 
right  over  to  Arizona.  We  must  seize  the  coast. 
You  are  right !  There  is  one  obstacle,  Valois,  I 
cannot  conquer." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  says  Maxime. 

"  It  is  Sidney  Johnston's  military  honor,"  thought 
fully  says  Hardin.  "  He  is  no  man  to  be  played 
with.  He  will  not  act  till  he  has  left  the  old 
army  regularly.  He  will  wait  his  commission  from 


208  LAGUNITAS. 

our  confederacy.  He  will  then  resign  and  go 
East." 

"It  will  be  too  late,"  cries  Valois.  "  We  will  be 
forgotten,  and  so  lose  California." 

"  The  worst  is  that  the  coast  will  stand  neutral," 
says  Hardin. 

"Now,  Judge,"  Valois  firmly  answers,  "I  have 
heard  to-night  talk  of  running  up  the  '  bear  flag/ 
'  the  lone  star/  'the  palmetto  banner/  or  *  the  flag 
of  the  California  Republic/  on  the  news  of  war.  I 
hope  they  will  not  do  so  rashly." 

"Why?"  says  Hardin, 

"  I  think  they  will  swing  under  the  new  flags  on 
the  same  pole,"  cries  Valois,  pacing  the  room.  "  If 
there  is  failure  here,  I  shall  go  East.  Judge  Valois 
offers  me  a  Louisiana  regiment.  If  this  war  is 
fought  out,  I  do  not  propose  to  live  to  see  the 
Southern  Cross  come  down." 

The  Creole  pauses  before  the  Judge,  who  replies, 
"You  must  stay  here;  we  must  get  California  out 
of  the  Union." 

"  If  we  do  not,  then  the  cause  lies  on  Lone 
Mountain,"  says  Valois,  pointing  westward  toward 
the  spot  where  a  tall  shaft  already  bears  Broderick's 
name. 

Hardin  nods  assent.  "  It  was  terrific,  that  appeal 
of  Baker's,"  he  murmurs. 

Both  felt  that  Baker  (now  Senator  from  Oregon) 
would  call  up  the  mighty  shade  of  the  New  York 
leader.  Neither  could  foresee  the  career  of  the 
eulogist  of  Broderick,  after  his  last  matchless  ap 
peals  to  an  awakening  North.  That  denunciation 
in  the  Senate  sent  the  departing  Southern  sena- 


LAGUNITAS.  209 

tors  away,  smarting  under  the  scorpion  whip  of  his 
peerless  invective.  Baker  was  doomed  to  come 
home  cold  in  death  from  the  red  field  of  Ball's 
Bluff,  and  lie  on  the  historic  hill,  beside  his  mur 
dered  friend. 

The  plotters  in  the  cold  midnight  hours  then, 
the  glow  of  feeling  fading  away,  say  "  Good-night." 
They  part,  looking  out  over  twinkling  lights  like 
the  great  camps  soon  to  rise  on  Eastern  plain  and 
river-bank.  Will  the  flag  of  the  South  wave  in 
triumph  here?  Ah  !  Who  can  read  the  future? 

Cut  off  from  the  East,  the  excited  Californians 
burn  in  high  fever.  The  grim  dice  of  fate  are  being 
cast.  Slowly,  the  Northern  pine  and  Southern  palm 
sway  toward  the  crash  of  war.  As  yet  only  jour 
nals  hurl  defiance  at  each  other.  Every  day  has  its 
duties  for  Hardin  and  Valois;  they  know  that  every 
regimental  mess-room  is  canvassed  ;  each  ship's 
ward-room  is  sounded  ;  officers  are  flattered  and 
won  over ;  woman  lends  her  persuasive  charms ; 
high  promised  rank  follows  the  men  who  yield. 

In  these  negotiations,  no  one  dares  to  breed  dis 
content  among  the  common  soldiers  and  sailors.  It 
is  madness  to  hope  to  turn  the  steady  loyalty  of  the 
enlisted  men.  They  are  as  true  in  both  services  as 
the  blue  they  wear.  Nice  distinctions  begin  at  the 
epaulet.  Hardin  and  Valois  are  worn  and  thought 
ful.  The  popular  tide  of  feelings  is  not  for  the 
South.  Separation  must  be  effective,  to  rouse  en 
thusiasm.  The  organization  of  the  Knights  of  the 
Golden  Circle  proceeds  quickly,  but  events  are 
quicker. 

The  seven  States  partly  out  of  the  Union  ;  the 
14 


210  LAGUNITAS. 

yet  unfinished  ranks  of  the  Southern  Confederacy; 
the  baffling  questions  of  compromise  with  the  claims 
and  rights  of  the  South  to  national  property  are 
agitated.  The  incredulous  folly  of  the  North  and 
the  newspaper  sympathy  of  the  great  Northern  cities 
drag  the  whole  question  of  war  slowly  along.  In 
the  West  (a  month  later  in  news),  the  people  fondly 
believe  the  bonds  of  the  Union  will  not  be  broken. 

Many  think  the  South  will  drop  out  quietly. 
Lincoln's  policy  is  utterly  unknown.  Distance  has 
dulled  the  echo  of  the  hostile  guns  fired  at  the 
Star  of  the  West  by  armed  traitors,  on  January  9, 
at  Charleston. 

Jefferson  Davis's  shadowy  Confederacy  of  the 
same  fatal  date  is  regarded  as  only  a  temporary 
menace  to  the  Union.  The  great  border  States 
are  not  yet  in  line. 

Paltering  old  President  Buchanan  has  found  no 
warrant  to  draw  the  nation's  sword  in  defence  of 
the^  outraged  flag. 

Congress  is  a  camp  of  warring  enemies.  Even  the 
conspirators  cling  to  their  comfortable  chairs. 

It  is  hard  to  realize,  by  the  blue  Pacific,  that  the 
flag  is  already  down.  No  one  knows  the  fatal 
dead  line  between  "  State  "  and  "  Union." 

So  recruits  come  in  slowly  to  the  Knights  of  the 
Golden  Circle,  in  California.  'Secession  is  only  a 
dark  thunder-cloud,  hanging  ominously  in  the  sky. 
The  red  lightning  of  war  lingers  in  its  sulphury 
bosom. 

Hardin,  Valois,  and  the  Knights  toil  to  secure 
their  ends.  They  know  not  that  their  vigor 
ous  foes  have  sent  trusted  messengers  speeding 


LAGUNITAS.  211 

eastward  to  secure  the  removal  of  General  Albert 
Sidney  Johnston.  There  is  a  Union  League  dig 
ging  under  their  works ! 

The  four  electoral  votes  of  California  cast  for  Lin 
coln  tell  him  the  State  is  loyal.  An  accidental  pro 
motion  of  Governor  Latham  to  the  Senate,  places 
John  G.  Downey  in  the  chair  of  California.  If  not 
a  "  coercionist,"  he  is  certainly  no  "  rebel."  The 
leaders  of  the  Golden  Circle  feel  that  chivalry  in 
the  West  is  crushed,  unless  saved  by  a  ''coup  de 
main."  McDougall  is  a  war  senator.  Latham, 
ruined  by  his  prediction  that  California  would  go 
South  or  secede  alone,  sinks  into  political  obscu 
rity.  The  revolution,  due  to  David  Terry's  bullet, 
brought  men  like  Phelps,  Sargent,  T.  W.  Park,  and 
John  Conness  to  the  front.  Other  Free-State  men 
see  the  victory  of  their  principles  with  joy.  Sidney 
Johnston  is  the  last  hope  of  the  Southern  leaders. 
The  old  soldier's  resignation  speeds  eastward  on  the 
pony  express.  Day  by  day,  exciting  news  tells  of 
the  snapping  of  cord  after  cord.  Olden  amity  dis 
appears  in  the  East.  The  public  voice  is  heard. 

The  mantle  of  heroic  Baker  as  a  political  leader 
falls  upon  the  boy  preacher,  Thomas  Starr  King. 
He  boldly  raises  the  song  of  freedom.  It  is  now 
no  time  to  lurk  in  the  rear.  Men,  hitherto  silent, 
rally  around  the  flag. 

The  "  Union  League "  grows  fast,  as  the 
"Golden  Circle"  extends.  All  over  California, 
resolute  men  swear  to  stand  by  the  flag.  Stan 
ford  and  Low  are  earning  their  governorships. 
From  pulpit  and  rostrum  the  cry  of  secession 
is  raised  by  Dr.  Scott  and  the  legal  meteor  Ed- 


212  LAGUNITAS. 

mund  Randolph,  now  sickening  to  his  death.  Ran 
dolph,  though  a  son  of  Virginia,  with,  first,  loyal 
impulses,  sent  despatches  to  President  Lincoln  that 
California  was  to  be  turned  over  to  the  South. 
He  disclosed  that  Jefferson  Davis  had  already  sent 
Sidney  Johnston  a  Major-General's  commission. 
Though  he  finally  follows  the  course  of  his  native 
State,  Randolph  rendered  priceless  service  to  the 
Union  cause  in  the  West.  General  Edward  V. 
Sumner  is  already  secretly  hurrying  westward. 
He  is  met  at  Panama  by  the  Unionist  messengers. 
They  turn  back  with  him.  In  every  city  and 
county  the  Unionists  and  Southerners  watch  each 
other.  While  Johnston's  resignation  flies  eastward, 
Sumner  is  steaming  up  the  Mexican  coast,  un 
known  to  the  conspirators. 

In  the  days  of  March  and  April,  1861,  one  excited 
man  could  have  plunged  the  Pacific  Coast  into  civil 
warfare.  All  unconscious  of  the  deadly  gun  bellow 
ing  treason  on  April  I2th  at  Charleston,  as  the  first 
shell  burst  over  Sumter,  the  situation  remained  one 
of  anxious  tension  in  California.  The  telegraph  is 
not  yet  finished.  On  April  ipth,  General  Sumner 
arrived  unexpectedly.  He  was  informed  of  local 
matters  by  the  loyalists.  General  Sidney  Johnston, 
astonished  and  surprised,  turned  over  his  command 
at  once.  Without  treasonable  attempt,  he  left  the 
Golden  Gate.  When  relieved,  he  was  no  longer  in 
the  service.  Speeding  over  the  Colorado  deserts  to 
Texas,  the  high-minded  veteran  rode  out  to  don 
the  new  gray  uniform,  and  to  die  in  the  arms  of  an 
almost  decisive  victory  at  Shiloh. 

Well  might  the  South  call  that   royal  old  soldier 


LAGUNITAS.  213 

to  lead  its  hosts.  Another  half  hour  of  Albert 
Sidney  Johnston  at  Shiloh,  and  the  history  of  the 
United  States  might  have  been  changed  by  his 
unconquered  sword.  Lofty  in  his  aims,  adored  by 
his  subordinates,  he  was  a  modern  Marshal  Ney. 
The  Southern  cypress  took  its  darkest  tinge  around 
his  untimely  grave.  Sidney  Johnston  had  all  the 
sterling  qualities  of  Lee,  and  even  a  rarer  magnet 
ism  of  character. 

Honor  placed  one  fadeless  wreath  upon  his  tomb. 
He  would  not  play  the  ignoble  part  of  a  Twiggs 
or  a  Lynde.  He  offered  a  stainless  sword  to  the 
Bonnie  Blue  Flag. 

The  gravity  of  his  farewell,  the  purity  of  his  pri 
vate  character,  the  affection  of  his  personal  friends, 
are  tributes  to  the  great  soldier.  He  nearly  crushed 
the  Union  army  in  his  tiger-like  assault  at  Shiloh. 
By  universal  consent,  the  ablest  soldier  of  the  "  old 
army,"  he  was  sacrificed  to  the  waywardness  of 
fate.  Turns  of  Fortune's  wheel. 

California  was  stunned  by  the  rapidity  of  Sum- 
ner's  grasp  of  the  reins  of  command.  Before  the 
Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle  could  move,  the  con 
trol  of  the  State  and  the  coast  was  lost  to  them  for 
ever.  Forts  and  arsenals,  towns  and  government 
depositories,  navy-yards  and  vessels,  were  guarded. 

Following  this  action  of  Sumner,  on  May  loth 
the  news  of  Sumter,  and  the  uprising  of  the  North, 
burst  upon  friend  and  foe  in  California.  The  loyal 
men  rallied  in  indignation,  overawing  the  South 
ern  element.  The  oath  of  fealty  was  renewed  by 
thousands.  California's  star  was  that  day  riveted 
in  the  flag.  An  outraged  people  deposed  Judge 


214  LAGUNITAS. 

Hardy,  who  so  feebly  prosecuted  the  slayer  of  Brod- 
erick.  Every  avenue  was  guarded.  Conspiracy 
fled  to  back  rooms  and  side  streets.  Here  were  no 
Federal  wrongs  to  redress.  On  the  spot  where 
Broderick's  body  lay,  under  Baker's  oratory,  the 
multitude  listened  to  the  awakened  patriots  of  the 
West.  The  Pacific  Coast  was  saved. 

The  madness  of  fools  who  fluttered  a  straggling 
"  bear  flag,"  "  palmetto  ensign,"  or  "  lone  star," 
caused  them  to  flee  in  terror. 

Stanley,  Lake,  Crockett,  Starr  King,  General 
Shields,  and  others,  echoed  the  pledges  of  their 
absent  comrades  in  New  York.  Organization,  for 
the  Union,  followed.  Even  the  maddest  Confeder 
ate  saw  the  only  way  to  serve  the  South  was  to 
sneak  through  the  lines  to  Texas.  The  telegraph 
was  completed  in  October,  1861.  The  government 
had  then  daily  tidings  from  the  loyal  sentinels  call 
ing  "All's  well,"  on  fort  and  rampart,  from  San  Juan 
Island  to  Fort  Yuma. 

Troops  were  offered  everywhere.  The  only  re 
gion  in  California  where  secessionists  were  united 
was  in  San  Joaquin. 

While  public  discussion  availed,  Hardin  and  Valois 
listened  to  Thornton,  Crittenden,  Morrison,  Ran 
dolph,  Dr.  Scott,  Weller,  Whitesides,  Hoge,  and 
Nugent.  But  the  time  for  hope  was  past.  The 
golden  sun  had  set  for  ever.  Fifteen  regiments  of 
Californian  troops,  in  formation,  were  destined  to 
hold  the  State.  They  guarded  the  roads  to  Salt 
Lake  and  Arizona.  The  arsenals  and  strongholds 
were  secured.  The  chance  of  successful  invasion 
from  Texas  vanished.  It  was  the  crowning  mistake 


LAGUNITAS.  215 

of  the  first  year  of  secession,  not  to  see  the  value  of 
the  Pacific  Coast.  From  the  first  shot,  the  Pacific 
Railroad  became  a  war  measure.  The  iron  bands 
tied  East  and  West  in  a  firm  union. 

Gwin's  departure  and  Randolph's  death  added 
to  the  Southern  discomfiture.  No  course  remained 
for  rebels  but  to  furtively  join  the  hosts  of  treason. 
Flight  to  the  East. 

In  the  wake  of  Sidney  Johnston  went  many 
men  of  note.  Garnett,  Cheatham,  Brooks,  Calhoun, 
Benham,  Magruder,  Phil  Herbert,  and  others,  with 
Dan  Showalter  and  David  Terry,  each  fresh  from 
the  deadly  field  of  honor.  Kewen,  Weller,  and 
others  remained  to  be  silenced  by  arrest.  All  over 
the  State  a  hegira  commenced  which  ended  in  final 
defeat.  Many  graves  on  the  shallow-trenched 
battle-fields  were  filled  by  the  Californian  exiles. 
Not  in  honor  did  these  devoted  men  and  hundreds 
of  their  friends  leave  the  golden  hills.  Secretly 
they  fled,  lest  their  romantic  quest  might  land  them 
in  a  military  prison.  Those  unable  to  leave  gave 
aid  to  the  absent.  Sulking  at  home,  they  deserted 
court  and  mart  to  avoid  personal  penalties. 

It  was  different  with  many  of  the  warm-hearted 
Californian  sons  of  the  South  who  were  attached  to 
the  Union.  Cut  off  in  a  distant  land,  they  held 
aloof  from  approving  secession.  Grateful  for  the 
shelter  of  the  peaceful  land  in  which  their  hard- 
won  homes  were  made,  it  was  only  after  actual  war 
that  the  ties  of  blood  carried  them  away  and  ranged 
them  under  the  Stars  and  Bars.  When  the  South 
ern  ranks  fell,  in  windrows,  on  the  Peninsula,  hun 
dreds  of  these  manly  Californians  left  to  join  their 


2l6  LAGUNITAS. 

brethren.  They  had  clung  to  the  Union  till  their 
States  went  out  one  by  one.  They  sadly  sought 
the  distant  fields  of  action,  and  laid  down  their 
lives  for  the  now  holy  cause. 

The  attitude  of  these  gallant  men  was  noble. 
They  scorned  the  burrowing  conspirators  who  dug 
below  the  foundations  of  the  national  constitution. 
These  schemers  led  the  eager  South  into  a  needless 
civil  war. 

The  holiest  feelings  of  heredity  dragged  the 
Southerners  who  lingered  into  war.  It  was  a  sacri 
fice  of  half  of  the  splendid  generation  which  fought 
under  the  Southern  Cross. 

When  broken  ranks  appealed  for  the  absent, 
when  invaded  States  and  drooping  hopes  aroused 
desperation,  the  last  California  contingents  braved 
the  desert  dangers.  Indian  attack  and  Federal 
capture  were  defied,  only  to  die  for  the  South  on  its 
sacred  soil.  "  Salut  aux  braves  !  "  The  loyalists  of 
California  were  restrained  from  disturbing  the  safe 
tenure  of  the  West  by  depleting  the  local  Union 
forces.  Abraham  Lincoln  saw  that  the  Pacific  col 
umns  should  do  no  more  than  guard  the  territories 
adjacent.  To  hold  the  West  and  secure  the  over 
land  roads  was  their  duty.  To  be  ready  to  march 
to  meet  an  invasion  or  quell  an  uprising.  This  was 
wisdom. 

But  the  country  called  for  skilled  soldiers  and 
representative  men  to  join  the  great  work  of  up 
holding  the  Union.  A  matchless  contingent  of 
Union  officers  went  East. 

California  had  few  arms-bearing  young  Ameri 
cans  to  represent  its  first  ten  years  of  State  exist- 


LAGUNITAS.  2 1/ 

ence.  But  it  returned  to  the  national  government 
men  identified  with  the  Pacific  Coast,  who  were 
destined  to  be  leaders  of  the  Union  hosts. 

Grant,  Sherman,  Sheridan,  Thomas,  Halleck, 
Hancock,  Hooker,  Keyes,  Naglee,  Baker,  Ord,  Far- 
ragut  (the  ^blameless  Nelson  of  America),  Canby, 
Fremont,  Shields,  McPherson,  Stoneman,  Stone, 
Porter,  Boggs,  Sumner,  Heintzelman,  Lander,  Buell, 
with  other  old  residents  of  the  coast,  drew  the 
sword.  Wool,  Denver,  Geary,  and  many  more, 
whose  abilities  had  been  perfected  in  the  struggles 
of  the  West,  took  high  rank. 

Where  the  young  were  absent  (by  reason  of  the 
infancy  of  the  State),  these  men  were  returned  to 
the  government.  They  went  with  a  loyalty  un- 
dimmed,  in  the  prime  of  their  powers.  Even  the 
graceful  McClellan  was  identified  with  the  Pacific 
Railway  survey.  Around  the  scenes  of  their  early 
manhood,  the  halo  of  these  loyal  men  will  ever 
linger,  and  gild  the  name  of  "  Pioneer."  It  can 
never  be  forgotten  that  without  the  stormy  scenes 
of  Western  life,  without  the  knowledge  of  the 
great  golden  empire  and  the  expansion  of  powers 
due  to  their  lessons  on  plain  and  prairie,  many  of 
these  men  would  have  relapsed  into  easy  mediocrity. 

The  completed  telegraph,  military  extension  of 
lines,  and  the  active  Union  League,  secured  Califor 
nia  to  the  Union. 

The  gigantic  game  of  war  rolled  its  red  pageantry 
over  Eastern  fields.  Bull  Run  fired  the  Southern 
heart.  Hardin  and  Valois  learned  the  Southern 
Government  would  send  a  strong  expedition  to 
hold  New  Mexico  and  Arizona.  Local  aid  was 


218  LAGUNTTAS. 

arranged  by  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle  to,  at 
last,  seize  California.  It  was  so  easy  to  whip  Yan 
kees.  The  Knights  were  smiling. 

At  the  risk  of  their  lives,  two  Southern  messen 
gers  reached  San  Francisco.  One  by  Panama. 
The  other  crossed  Arizona  and  examined  the  line 
of  march.  He  rode,  warning  sympathizers  to  await 
the  Confederate  flag,  which  now  waved  in  triumph 
at  Munson's  Hill,  in  plain  sight  of  the  guarded  cap- 
itol. 

Valois  fears  this  Western  raid  may  be  too  late. 
For  the  Navy  Department  reinforces  the  Pacific 
fleet.  Valois  explains  to  Hardin  that  his  proph 
ecy  is  being  realized.  The  Confederates,  with  more 
men  than  are  needed,  hold  their  lines  of  natural 
defence.  The  fruits  of  Bull  Run  are  lost.  While 
letters  by  every  steamer  come  from  Northern  spies, 
Washington  friends,  and  Southern  associates,  the 
journals  tell  them  of  the  deliberate  preparation  of 
the  North  for  a  struggle  to  the  death.  The  giant 
is  waking  up. 

Valois  mourns  the  madness  of  keeping  the  flower 
of  the  South  inactive.  A  rapid  Northern  invasion 
should  humble  the  administration.  The  ardent 
Texans  should  be  thrown  at  once  into  California, 
leaving  New  Mexico  and  Arizona  for  later  occupa 
tion. 

There  is  no  reason  why  the  attack  should  not  be 
immediate.  Under  the  stimulus  of  Bull  Run  the 
entire  Southern  population  of  California  would 
flock  to  the  new  standard.  Three  months  should 
see  the  Confederate  cavalry  pasturing  their  steeds 
in  the  prairies  of  California. 


LAGUNITAS.  219 

The  friends  sicken  at  the  delay,  as  weary  months 
drag  on.  Sibley's  Texans  should  be  now  on  the 
Gila.  They  have  guides,  leaders,  scouts,  and  spies 
from  the  Southern  refugees  pouring  over  the  Gila. 
Every  golden  day  has  its  gloomy  sunset.  Hardin's 
brow  furrows  with  deep  lines.  His  sagacity  tells 
him  that  the  time  has  passed  for  the  movement  to 
succeed. 

And  he  is  right.  Sibley  wearies  out  the  winter 
in  Texas.  The  magnet  of  Eastern  fields  of  glory 
draws  the  fiery  Texans  across  the  Mississippi.  The 
Californian  volunteers  are  arming  and  drilling. 
They  stream  out  to  Salt  Lake.  They  send  the 
heavy  column  of  General  Carleton  toward  El  Paso. 

The  two  chiefs  of  the  Golden  Circle  are  unaware 
of  the  destination  of  Carleton.  Loyalty  has  learned 
silence.  There  are  no  traitor  department  clerks 
here,  to  furnish  maps,  plans,  and  duplicate  orders. 

Canby  in  New  Mexico,  unknown  to  the  seces 
sionists  of  California,  aided  by  Kit  Carson,  gathers 
a  force  to  strike  Sibley  in  flank.  It  is  fatal  to  Cali 
fornian  conquest.  Hardin  and  Valois  learn  of  the 
lethargy  of  the  great  Confederate  army,  flushed 
with  success.  Sibley's  dalliance  at  Fort  Bliss  con 
tinues. 

The  "  army  of  New  Mexico,"  on  September  19, 
1861,  is  only  a  few  hundreds  of  mounted  rangers 
and  Texan  youth  under  feeble  Sibley. 

From  the  first,  Jefferson  Davis's  old  army  jeal 
ousies  and  hatred  of  able  men  of  individuality, 
hamstring  the  Southern  cause.  A  narrow-minded 
man  is  Davis,  the  slave  of  inveterate  prejudice. 
With  dashing  Earl  Van  Dorn,  sturdy  Ben  Ewell, 


220  LAGUNITAS. 

and  dozens  of  veteran  cavalry  leaders  at  his  ser 
vice,  knowing  every  foot  of  the  road,  he  could  have 
thrown  his  Confederate  column  into  California. 
Three  months  after  Sumter's  fall,  California  should 
have  been  captured.  Davis  allows  an  old  marti 
net  to  ruin  the  Confederate  cause  in  the  Pacific. 

The  operation  is  so  easy,  so  natural,  and  so  neces 
sary,  that  it  looks  like  fatuity  to  neglect  the  golden 
months  of  the  fall  of  1861. 

Especially  fitted  for  bold  dashes  with  a  daring 
leader,  the  Texans  throw  themselves,  later,  use 
lessly  against  the  flaming  redoubts  of  Corinth. 
They  are  thrown  into  mangled  heaps'  before  Bat 
tery  Robinett,  dying  for  the  South.  Their  military 
recklessness  has  never  been  surpassed  in  the  red 
record  of  war. 

Though  gallant  in  the  field,  President  Jefferson 
Davis,  seated  on  a  throne  of  cotton,  gazes  across  the 
seas  for  England's  help.  He  craves  the  aid  of  France. 
He  allows  narrow  prejudice  to  blind  him  to  any  part 
of  the  great  issue,  save  the  military  pageantry  of  his 
unequalled  Virginian  army.  It  is  the  flower  of  the 
South,  and  moves  only  on  the  sacred  soil  of  Vir 
ginia.  Davis,  restrained  by  antipathies,  haughty, 
and  distant,  is  deaf  to  the  thrilling  calls  of  the 
West  for  that  dashing  column.  It  would  have 
gained  him  California.  Weakness  of  mind  kept  him 
from  hurling  his  victorious  troops  on  Washington, 
or  crossing  the  Ohio  to  divide  the  North  while  yet 
unprepared.  Active  help  could  then  be  looked  for 
from  Northern  Democrats.  But  he  masses  the  South 
in  Virginia. 

As  winter  wears  on  the  movement  of  Carleton's 


LAGUNITAS.  221 

and  Canby's  preparations  are  disclosed  by  Southern 
friends,  who  run  the  gauntlet  with  these  discourag 
ing  news. 

Sibley  lingered  with  leaden  heels  at  Fort  Bliss. 
The  Confederate  riders  are  not  across  the  Rio 
Grande.  Valois  grows  heartsick. 

Broken  in  hopes,  wearied  with  plotting,  mis 
trusted  by  the  community,  Hardin  knows  the  truth 
at  last.  The  words,  "Too  late!"  ring  in  his  ears. 

It  will  be  only  some  secret  plot  which  can  now 
hope  to  succeed  in  the  West. 

Davis  and  Lee  are  wedded  to  Virginia.  The 
haughty  selfishness  of  the  u  mother  of  presidents  " 
demands  that  every  interest  of  the  Confederacy 
shall  give  way  to  morbid  State  vanity.  Virginia  is 
to  be  the  graveyard  of  the  gallant  Southern  gene 
ration  in  arms. 

Every  other  pass  may  be  left  unguarded.  The 
chivalry  of  the  Stars  and  Bars  must  crowd  Virginia 
till  their  graves  fill  the  land.  Unnecessarily  strong, 
with  a  frontier  defended  by  rivers,  forests,  and 
chosen  positions,  it  becomes  Fortune's  sport  to  hud 
dle  the  bulk  of  the  Confederate  forces  into  Lee's 
army. 

It  allows  the  Border,  Gulf,  and  Western  States 
to  fall  a  prey  to  the  North.  The  story  of  Lee's 
ability  has  been  told  by  an  adoring  generation. 
The  record  of  his  cold  military  selfishness  is  shown 
in  the  easy  conquests  of  the  heart  of  the  South. 
Their  natural  defenders  were  drafted  to  fill  those 
superb  legions,  operating  under  the  eyes  of  Davis 
and  controlled  by  the  slightest  wish  of  imperious 
Lee. 


222  LAGUNITAS. 

Albert  Sidney  Johnston,.  Beauregard,  and  the 
fighting  tactician,  Joe  Johnston,  were  destined  to 
feel  how  fatal  was  the  military  favoritism  of  Jeffer 
son  Davis.  Davis  threw  away  Vicksburg,  and  the 
Mississippi  later,  to  please  Lee.  All  for  Virginia. 

Stung  with  letters  from  Louisiana,  reproaching 
him  for  inaction  while  his  brethren  were  meeting 
the  Northern  invaders,  Valois  decides  to  go  East. 
He  will  join  the  Southern  defence.  For  it  is  de 
fence — not  invasion — now. 

Directing  Hardin  to  select  a  subordinate  in  his 
place,  Valois  returns  to  Lagunitas.  He  must  say 
farewell  to  loving  wife  and  prattling  child.  Too 
well  known  to  be  allowed  to  follow  Showalter,  Terry, 
and  their  fellows  over  the  Colorado  desert,  he  must 
go  to  Guaymas  in  Mexico.  He  can  thus  reach  the 
Confederates  at  El  Paso.  From  thence  it  is  easy 
to  reach  New  Orleans.  Then  to  the  front.  To  the 
field. 

Valois  feels  it  would  be  useless  for  him  to  go  via 
Panama.  The  provost-marshal  would  hold  him  as  a 
"  known  enemy." 

With  rage,  Valois  realizes  a  new  commander  makes 
latent  treason  uncomfortable  in  California.  He  de 
termines  to  reach  El  Paso,  and  hurl  the  Texans  on 
California.  Should  he  fail,  he  heads  a  Louisiana 
regiment.  His  heart  tells  him  the  war  will  be  long 
and  bloody.  Edmund  Randolph's  loyalty,  at  the 
outbreak,  prevented  the  seizure  of  California.  Sib- 
ley's  folly  and  Davis's  indifference  complete  the 
ruin  of  the  Western  plan  of  action. 

"  Hardin,  hold  the  Knights  together.  I  will  see 
if  I  can  stop  a  Yankee  bullet !  "  says  Valois.  He 


LAGUNITAS.  223 

notifies  Hardin  that  he  intends  to  make  him  sole 
trustee  of  his  property  in  his  absence. 

Hardin's  term  on  the  bench  has  expired.  Like 
other  Southerners  debarred  from  taking  the  field, 
he  gives  aid  to  those  who  go.  The  men  who  go 
leave  hostages  behind  them.  The  friendship  of 
years  causes  Valois  to  make  him  the  adviser  of  his 
wife  in  property  matters.  He  makes  him  his  own 
representative.  "  Thank  Heaven  ! "  cries  Valois, 
"  my  wife's  property  is  safe.  No  taint  from  me  can 
attach  to  her  birthright.  It  is  her  own  by  law." 

Valois,  at  Lagunitas,  unfolds  to  the  sorrowing 
padre  his  departure  for  the  war.  Safe  in  the  bosom 
of  the  priest,  this  secret  is  a  heavy  load.  Valois 
gains  his  consent  to  remain  in  charge  of  Lagunitas. 
The  little  girl  begins  to  feebly  walk.  Her  infant 
gaze  cannot  measure  her  possessions. 

Lovely  Dolores  Valois  listens  meekly  to  her  hus 
band's  plans.  Devoted  to  Maxime,  his  will  is  her 
only  law.  The  beautiful  dark  eyes  are  tinged  with 
a  deeper  lustre. 

Busied  with  his  affairs,  Maxime  thinks  of  the 
future  as  he  handles  his  papers.  Francois  Ribaut 
is  the  depositary  of  his  wishes.  Dolores  is  as  in 
capable  as  her  child  in  business.  Will  God  protect 
these  two  innocents? 

Valois  wonders  if  he  will  return  in  defeat  like 
Don  Miguel.  Poor  old  Don  !  around  his  tomb  the 
roses  creep, — his  gentle  Juanita  by  his  side. 

He  hopes  the  armies  of  the  West  will  carry  the 
banner,  now  flying  from  Gulf  to  border,  into  the 
North.  There  the  legendary  friends  of  the  South 
will  hail  it. 


224  LAGUNITAS. 

Alas!  pent  up  in  California,  Maxime  hears  not 
the  murmurs  of  the  Northern  pines,  breathing  notes 
of  war  and  defiance.  The  predictions  of  the  leaders 
of  the  conspiracy  are  fallacious.  Aid  and  comfort 
fail  them  abroad.  North  of  Mason  and  Dixon's 
line  the  sympathizers  are  frightened. 

In  his  heart  he  only  feels  the  tumult  of  the  call 
to  the  field.  It  is  his  pride  of  race.  Tired,  weary 
of  the  crosses  of  fortune,  he  waits  only  to  see  the 
enemy's  fires  glittering  from  hill  and  cliff. 

With  all  his  successes,  the  West  has  never  been 
his  home.  Looking  out  on  his  far-sweeping  ala- 
medas,  his  thoughts  turn  fondly  back  to  his  native 
land.  He  is  "  going  home  to  Dixie." 


CHAPTER    XL 

"  I'SE  GWINE  BACK  TO  DIXIE." — THE  FORTUNES 
OF  WAR. — VAL  VERDE. 

THE  last  weeks  of  Maxime  Valois'  stay  at  La- 
gunitas  drift  away.  Old  "  Kaintuck  "  has  plead  in 
vain  to  go.  He  yields  to  Valois'  orders  not  to 
dream  of  going  with  him.  His  martial  heart  is  fired, 
but  some  one  must  watch  the  home.  Padre  Fran- 
gois  Ribaut  has  all  the  documents  of  the  family,  the 
marriage,  and  birth  of  the  infant  heir.  He  is  custo 
dian  also  of  the  will  of  Donna  Dolores.  She  leaves 
her  family  inheritance  to  her  child,  and  failing  her,  to 
her  husband.  The  two  representatives  of  the  de 
parting  master  know  that  Philip  Hardin  will  safely 


LAGUNITAS.  22$ 

guide  the  legal  management  of  the  estate  while  its 
chieftain  is  at  the  wars. 

Donna  Dolores  and  the  priest  accompany  Valois 
to  San  Francisco.  He  must  leave  quietly.  He  is 
liable  to  arrest.  He  takes  the  Mexican  steamer,  as 
if  for  a  temporary  absence. 

It  costs  Maxime  Valois  a  keen  pang  of  regret,  as 
he  rides  the  last  time  over  his  superb  domain.  He 
looks  around  the  plaza,  and  walks  alone  through  the 
well-remembered  rooms.  He  takes  his  seat,  with  a 
sigh,  by  his  wife's  side,  as  the  carriage  whirls  him 
down  the  avenues.  The  orange-trees  are  in  bloom. 
The  gardens  show  the  rare  beauties  of  midland  Cal 
ifornia.  As  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  the  sparkle  of 
lovely  Lagunitas  mirrors  the  clouds  flaking  the 
sapphire  sky.  Valois  fixes  his  eyes  once  more 
upon  his  happy  home.  Peace,  prosperity,  progress, 
mining  exploration,  social  development,  all  smile 
through  this  great  interior  valley  of  the  Golden 
State.  No  war  cloud  has  yet  rolled  past  the 
"  Rockies."  It  is  the  golden  youth  of  the  common 
wealth.  The  throbbing  engine,  clattering  stamp, 
whirling  saw,  and  busy  factory,  show  that  the  home- 
makers  are  moving  on  apace,  with  giant  strides. 
No  fairer  land  to  leave  could  tempt  a  departing 
warrior.  But  even  with  a  loved  wife  and  his  only 
child  beside  him,  the  Southerner's  heart  "turns 
back  to  Dixie." 

Passing  rapidly  through  Stockton,  where  his  old 
friends  vainly  tempt  him  to  say,  publicly,  good-by, 
he  refrains.  No  one  must  know  his  destination. 
No  parting  cup  is  drained. 

In  San  Francisco,  Philip  Hard  in,  in  presence  of 
15 


226  LAGUNITAS. 

Valois'  wife  and  the  padre,  receives  his  powers  of 
attorney  and  final  directions.  Letters,  remittances, 
and  all  communications  are  to  be  sent  through  a 
house  in  Havana.  The  old  New  Orleans  family 
of  Valois  is  well  known  there.  Maxime  will  be  able, 
by  blockade-runners  and  travelling  messengers,  to 
obtain  his  communications. 

The  only  stranger  in  San  Francisco  who  knows 
of  Maxime's  departure  is  the  old  mining  partner, 
Joe  Woods.  He  is  now  a  middle-aged  man  of 
property  and  vigor.  He  comes  from  the  interior  to 
say  adieu  to  his  friend.  "  Old  times"  cloud  their 
eyes.  But  the  parting  is  secret.  Federal  spies 
throng  the  streets. 

At  the  mail  wharf  the  Mexican  steamer,  steam 
up,  is  ready  for  departure.  The  last  private  news 
from  the  Texan  border  tells  of  General  Sibley's 
gathering  forces.  Provided  with  private  despatches, 
and  bundles  of  contraband  letters  for  the  cut 
off  friends  in  the  South,  Maxime  Valois  repairs  to 
the  steamer.  Several  returning  Texans  and  recruits 
for  the  Confederacy  have  arrived  singly.  They  will 
make  an  overland  party  from  Guaymas,  headed  by 
Valois.  Valois,  under  the  orders  of  the  Golden  Cir 
cle,  has  been  charged  with  important  communica 
tions.  Unknown  to  him,  secret  agents  of  the  gov 
ernment  watch  his  departure.  He  has  committed 
no  overt  act.  He  goes  to  a  neutral  land. 

The  calm,  passionless  face  of  Padre  Francois 
Ribaut  shows  a  tear  trembling  in  his  eye.  He  leads 
the  weeping  wife  ashore  from  the  cabin.  The  last 
good-by  was  sacred  by  its  silent  sorrow.  Valois' 
father's  heart  was  strangely  thrilled  when  he  kissed 


LAGUNITAS.  22/ 

his  baby  girl  farewell,  on  leaving  the  little  party. 
Even  rebels  have  warm  hearts. 

Philip  Hardin's  stern  features  relax  into  some 
show  of  feeling  as  Valois  places  his  wife's  hands  in 
his.  That  mute  adieu  to  lovely  Dolores  moves 
him.  "  May  God  deal  with  you,  Hardin,  as  you 
deal  with  my  wife  and  child,"  solemnly  says  Valois. 
The  lips  of  Francois  Ribaut  piously  add  "Amen. 
Amen." 

Padre  Francisco  comes  back  to  the  boat.  With 
French  impulsiveness,  he  throws  himself  in  Valois' 
arms.  He  whispers  a  friend's  blessing,  a  priest's 
benediction. 

The  Orizaba  glides  out  past  two  or  three  watch 
ful  cruisers  flying  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  The  self- 
devoted  Louisianian  loses  from  sight  the  little  knot 
of  dear  ones  on  the  wharf.  He  sees  the  flutter  of 
Dolores'  handkerchief  for  the  last  time.  On  to 
Dixie  !  Going  home  ! 

Out  on  the  bay,  thronged  with  the  ships  of  all 
nations,  the  steamer  glides.  Its  shores  are  covered 
with  smiling  villages.  Happy  homes  and  growing 
cities  crown  the  heights.  Past  grim  Alcatraz, 
where  the  star  flag  proudly  floats  on  the  Sumter- 
like  citadel,  the  boat  slowly  moves.  It  leaves  the 
great  metropolis  of  the  West,  spreading  over  its 
sandy  hills  and  creeping  up  now  the  far  green  val 
leys.  It  slips  safely  through  the  sea-gates  of  the 
West,  and  past  the  grim  fort  at  the  South  Heads. 
There,  casemate  and  barbette  shelter  the  shotted 
guns  which  speak  only  for  the  Union. 

Valois'  heart  rises  in  his  throat  as  the  sentinel's 
bayonet  glitters  in  the  sunlight.  Loyal  men  are 


228  LAGUNITAS. 

on  the  walls  of  the  fort.  Far  away  on  the  Presidio 
grounds,  he  can  see  the  blue  regiments  of  Carleton's 
troops,  at  exercise,  wheel  at  drill.  The  sweeping 
line  of  a  cavalry  battalion  moves,  their  sabres  flash 
as  the  lines  dash  on.  These  men  are  now  his  foes. 
The  tossing  breakers  of  the  bar  throw  their  spray 
high  over  bulwarks  and  guard.  In  grim  determina 
tion  he  watches  the  last  American  flag  he  ever  will 
see  in  friendship,  till  it  fades  away  from  sight.  He 
has  now  taken  the  irrevocable  step.  When  he 
steps  on  Mexican  soil,  he  will  be  "  a  man  without  a 
country."  Prudential  reasons  keep  him  aloof  from 
his  companions  until  Guaymas  is  reached.  Once 
ashore,  the  comrades  openly  unite.  Without  delay 
the  party  plunges  into  the  interior.  Well  armed, 
splendidly  mounted,  they  assume  a  semi-military 
discipline.  The  Mexicans  are  none  too  friendly. 
V-alois  has  abundant  gold,  as  well  as  forty  thousand 
dollars  in  drafts  on  Havana,  the  proceeds  of  Lagu- 
nitas'  future  returns  advanced  by  Hardin. 

Twenty  days'  march  up  the  Yaqui  Valley,  through 
Arispe,  where  the  filibusters  died  with  Spartan 
bravery,  is  a  weary  jaunt.  But  high  hopes  buoy 
them  up.  Over  mesa  and  gorge,  past  hacienda  and 
Indian  settlement,  they  climb  passes  until  the  great 
mountains  break  away.  Crossing  the  muddy  Rio 
Grande,  Valois  is  greeted  by  old  friends.  He  sees 
the  Confederate  flag  for  the  first  time,  floating  over 
the  turbulent  levies  of  Sibley,  still  at  Fort  Bliss. 

Long  and  weary  marches ;  dangers  from  bandit, 
Indian,  and  lurking  Mexican  ;  regrets  for  the  home 
circle  at  Lagunitas,  make  Maxime  Valois  very  grave. 
Individual  sacrifices  are  not  appreciated  in  war- 


LAGUNITAS.  22Q 

time.  As  he  rides  through  the  Confederate  camp, 
his  heart  sinks.  The  uncouth  straggling  plainsmen, 
without  order  or  regular  equipment,  recall  to  him 
his  old  enemies,  the  nomadic  Mexican  vaqueros. 

There  seems  to  be  no  supply  train,  artillery,  or 
regular  stores.  These  are  not  the  men  who  can 
overawe  the  compact  California  community.  Far 
gray  rocky  sandhills  stretch  along  the  Texan  bor 
der  Over  the  Rio  Grande,  rich  mountain  scenery 
delights  the  eye.  It  instantly  recalls  to  Valois  the 
old  Southern  dream  of  taking  the  "  Zona  Libre." 
Tamaulipas,  Coahuila,  and  Nueva  Leon  were  cov 
eted  as  a  crowning  trophy  of  the  Mexican  war. 
Dreams  of  olden  days. 

Received  kindly  by  General  Sibley,  the  Louisi- 
anian  delivers  his  letters,  despatches,  and  messages. 
After  rest  and  refreshment,  he  is  asked  to  join  a 
council  of  war.  There  are  fleet  couriers,  lately  ar 
rived,  who  speak  of  Carleton's  column  being  nearly 
ready  to  cross  the  Colorado.  When  the  General  ex 
plains  his  plan  of  attacking  the  Federal  forces  in 
New  Mexico,  and  occupying  Arizona,  Valois  hastens 
to  urge  a  forced  march  down  to  the  fertile  Gila. 
He  trusts  to  Canby  timidly  holding  on  to  Fort 
Union  and  Fort  Craig.  Alas,  Sibley's  place  of 
recruiting  and  assembly  has  been  ill  chosen  !  The 
animals,  crowded  on  the  bare  plains,  suffer  for  lack 
of  forage.  Recruits  are  discouraged  by  the  dreary 
surroundings.  The  effective  strength  has  not  visibly 
increased  in  three  months.  The  Texans  are  way 
ward.  A  strong  column,  well  organized,  in  the  rich 
interior  of  Texas,  full  of  the  early  ardor  of  seces 
sion  might  have  pushed  on  and  reached  the  Gila. 


230  LAGUNITAS. 

But  here  is  only  a  chafing  body  of  undisciplined  men. 
They -are  united  merely  by  political  sentiment. 

General  Sibley  urges  Valois  to  accompany  him 
in  his  forward  march.  He  offers  him  a  staff  posi 
tion,  promising  to  release  him,  then  to  move  to  the 
eastward.  Valois'  knowledge  of  the  frontier  is  in 
valuable,  and  he  cannot  pass  an  enemy  in  arms. 
Maxime  Valois,  with  fiery  energy,  aids  in  urging 
the  motley  command  forward.  On  February  /, 
1862,  the  wild  brigade  of  invasion  reaches  the  mesa 
near  Fort  Craig.  The  "  gray  "  and  "  blue  "  meet 
here  in  conflict,  to  decide  the  fate  of  New  Mexico 
and  Arizona.  Feeble  skirmishing  begins.  On  the 
2 ist  of  February,  the  bitter  conflict  of  Val  Verde 
shows  Valois  for  the  first  time — alas,  riot  the  last  ! 
— the  blood  of  brothers  mingled  on  a  doubtful  field. 
It  is  a  horrid  fight.  A  drawn  battle. 

Instead  of  pushing  on  to  Arizona,  deluded  by 
reports  of  local  aid,  Sibley  straggles  off  to  Santa 
Fe"  and  Albuquerque.  Canby  refits  his  broken 
forces  under  the  walls  of  strong  Fort  Union.  Long 
before  the  trifling  affairs  of  Glorietta  and  Peralta, 
Valois,  disgusted  with  Sibley,  is  on  his  way  east. 
He  will  join  the  Army  of  the  West.  His  heart 
sickens  at  the  foolish  incapacity  of  the  border  com 
mander.  The  Texan  column  melts  away  under 
Canby 's  resolute  advance.  The  few  raiders,  who 
have  ridden  down  into  Arizona  and  hoisted  the 
westernmost  Confederate  flag  at  Antelope  Peak, 
are  chased  back  by  Carleton's  strong  column.  The 
boasted  "  military  advance  on  California  "  is  at  an 
end.  Carleton's  California  column  is  well  over  the 
Colorado.  The  barren  fruits  of  Val  Verde  are  only 


LAGUNITAS.  231 

a  few  buried  guns  of  McRea's  hard-fought  battery. 
The  gallantry  of  Colonel  Thos.  P.  Ochiltree,  C.  S.  A., 
at  Val  Verde,  under  the  modest  rank  of  "  Cap 
tain,"  is  the  only  remembered  historic  incident  of 
that  now  forgotten  field.  The  First  Regiment  and 
one  battalion  of  the  Second  California  Volunteer 
Cavalry,  the  Fifth  California  Infantry,  and  a  good 
battery  hold  Arizona  firmly.  The  Second  Battal 
ion,  Second  California  Cavalry,  the  Fifth  California 
Cavalry,  and  Third  California  Infantry,  under  gal 
lant  General  Pat  Connor,  keep  Utah  protected. 
They  lash  the  wild  Indians  into  submission,  and 
prevent  any  rising. 

General  Canby  and  Kit  Carson's  victorious  troops 
keep  New  Mexico.  They  cut  the  line  of  any  possi 
ble  Confederate  advance.  Only  Sibley's  pompous 
report  remains  now  to  tell  of  the  fate  of  his  troops, 
who  literally  disbanded  or  deserted.  An  inglorious 
failure  attends  the  dreaded  Texan  attack. 

The  news,  travelling  east  and  west,  by  fugitives, 
soon  announce  the  failure  of  this  abortive  attempt. 
The  golden  opportunity  of  the  fall  of  1861  never 
returns. 

The  Confederate  operations  west  of  the  Rio 
Grande  were  only  a  miserable  and  ridiculous  farce. 
Valois,  leaving  failure  behind  him,  learns  on  near- 
ing  the  Louisiana  line,  that  the  proud  Pelican  flag 
floats  no  longer  over  the  Crescent  City.  It  lies  now 
helpless  under  the  guns  of  fearless  Farragut's  fleet. 
So  he  cannot  even  revisit  the  home  of  his  youth. 
Maxime  Valois  smuggles  himself  across  the  Missis 
sippi.  He  joins  the  Confederates  under  Van  Dorn. 
He  is  a  soldier  at  last 


232  LAGUNITAS. 

Here  in  the  circling  camps  of  the  great  Army  of 
the  West,  Maxime  Valois  joins  the  first  Louisiana 
regiment  he  meets.  He  realizes  that  the  beloved 
Southern  Confederacy  has  yet  an  unbeaten  army. 
A  grand  array.  The  tramp  of  solid  legions  makes 
him  feel  a  soldier,  not  a  sneaking  conspirator.  He 
is  no  more  a  guerilla  of  the  plains,  or  a  fugitive 
deserter  of  his  adopted  State. 

The  capture  of  New  Orleans  seals  the  Mississippi. 
The  Confederacy  is  cut  in  twain.  It  is  positive 
now,  the  only  help  from  the  golden  West  will  be 
the  arrival  of  parties  of  self-devoted  men  like  him 
self.  They  come  in  squads,  bolting  through  Mexico 
or  slipping  through  Arizona.  Some  reach  Panama 
and  Havana,  gaining  the  South  by  blockade-run 
ners.  He  opens  mail  communication  with  Judge 
Hardin,  via  Havana.  He  succeeds  in  exchanging 
views  with  the  venerable  head  of  his  house  at  New 
Orleans.  It  is  all  gloomy  now.  Old  and  despond 
ent,  the  New  Orleans  patriarch  has  sent  his  youth 
ful  son  away  to  Paris.  Armand  is  too  young  to  bear 
arms.  He  can  only  come  home  and  do  a  soldier's 
duty  later.  By  family  influence,  Maxime  Valois  finds 
himself  soon  a  major  in  a  Louisiana  regiment.  He 
wears  his  gray  uniform  at  the  head  of  men  already 
veterans.  Shiloh's  disputed  laurels  are  theirs.  They 
are  tigers  who  have  tasted  blood.  In  the  rapidly 
changing  scenes  of  service,  trusting  to  chance  for 
news  of  his  family,  Maxime  Valois'  whole  nature  is 
centred  upon  the  grave  duties  of  his  station.  South 
ern  victories  are  hailed  from  the  East.  The  victo 
rious  arms  of  the  Confederacy  roll  back  McClellan's 
great  force.  Bruised,  bleeding,  and  shattered  from 


LAGUNITAS.  233 

the  hard-fought  fields  of  the  Peninsula,  the  Union 
ists  recoil.  The  stars  of  the  Southern  Cross  are 
high  in  hope's  bright  field.  Though  Richmond  is 
saved  for  the  time,  it  is  at  a  fearful  cost.  Malvern 
Hill  shakes  to  its  base  under  the  flaming  cannon, 
ploughing  the  ranks  of  the  dauntless  Confederates, 
as  the  Army  of  the  Potomac  hurls  back  the  confi 
dent  legions  of  Lee,  Johnston,  and  Jackson.  The 
Army  of  the  Potomac  is  decimated.  The  bloody 
attrition  of  the  field  begins  to  wear  off  these  splen 
did  lines  which  the  South  can  never  replace. 
Losses  like  those  of  Pryor's  Brigade,  nine  hundred 
out  of  fifteen  hundred  in  a  single  campaign,  would 
appall  any  but  the  grim  Virginian  soldiers.  They 
are  veterans  now.  They  learn  the  art  of  war  in 
fields  like  Seven  Pines  and  Fair  Oaks.  Even  Pryor, 
as  chivalric  in  action  as  truculent  in  debate,  now 
admits  that  the  Yankees  will  fight.  Fredericks- 
burg's  butchery  is  a  victory  of  note.  All  the  year 
the  noise  of  battle  rolls,  while  the  Eastern  war  is 
undecided,  for  the  second  Manassas  and  awful  An- 
tietam  balance  each  other.  Maxime  Valois  feels 
the  issue  is  lost.  When  the  shock  of  battle  has 
been  tried  at  Corinth,  where  lion-like  Rosecrans 
conquers,  when  the  glow  of  the  onset  fades  away, 
his  heart  sinks.  He  knows  that  the  iron-jointed 
men  of  the  West  are  the  peers  of  any  race  in  the 
field. 

Ay  !  In  the  West  it  is  fighting  from  the  first. 
Donelson,  Shiloh,  and  Corinth  lead  up  to  the  awful 
death  shambles  of  Stone  River,  Vicksburg,  and 
Chickamauga.  These  are  scenes  to  shake  the  nerve 
of  the  very  bravest. 


234  LAGUXTTAS. 

Heading  his  troops  on  the  march,  watching  the 
thousand  baleful  fires  of  the  enemy  at  night,  when 
friend  and  foe  go  down  in  the  thundering  crash  of 
battle,  Valois,  amazed,  asks  himself,  "  Are  these 
sturdy  foes  the  Northern  mudsills  ?  " 

For,  proud  and  dashing  as  the  Louisiana  Tigers 
and  Texan  Rangers  prove,  steady  and  vindictive  the 
rugged  Mississippians,  dogged  and  undaunted  the 
Georgians,  fierce  the  Alabamans — the  honest  candor 
of  Valois  tells  him  no  human  valor  can  excel  the 
never-yielding  Western  troops.  Their  iron  courage 
honors  the  blue-clad  men  of  Iowa,  Michigan,  and 
the  Lake  States.  No  hired  foreigners  there  ;  no 
helot  immigrants  these  men,  whose  glittering  bayo 
nets  shine  in  the  lines  of  Corinth,  as  steadily  as  the 
spears  of  the  old  Tenth  Roman  Legion — Caesar's 
pets. 

With  unproclaimed  chivalry  and  a  readiness  to 
meet  the  foe  which  tells  its  own  story,  the  Western 
men  come  on.  Led  by  Grant,  Sherman,  Rosecrans, 
Sheridan,  Thomas,  McPherson,  and  Logan,  they 
press  steadily  toward  the  heart  of  the  Confederacy. 
The  rosy  dreams  of  empire  in  the  great  West  fade 
away.  Farragut,  Porter,  and  the  giant  captain, 
Grant,  cut  off  the  Trans-Mississippi  from  active 
military  concert  with  the  rest  of  the  severed  Con 
federacy. 

To  and  fro  rolls  the  red  tide  of  war.  Valois'  sol 
dierly  face,  bronzed  with  service,  shows  only  the 
steady  devotion  of  the  soldier.  He  loves  the  cause 
— once  dear  in  its  promise — now  sacred  in  its  hours 
of  gloomy  peril  and  incipient  decadence.  Gettys 
burg,  Vicksburg,  and  Port  Hudson  are  terrible  omens 


LAGUNITAS.  235 

of  a  final  day  of  gloom.  Letters  from  his  wife, 
reports  from  Judge  Hardin,  and  news  from  the  West 
ern  shores  give  him  only  vague  hints  of  the  future 
straggling  efforts  on  the  Pacific.  The  only  com 
forting  tidings  are  that  his  wife  and  child  are  well, 
by  the  peaceful  shores  of  Lagunitas.  The  absence 
of  foreign  aid,  the  lack  of  substantial  support  from 
the  Northern  sympathizers,  and  the  slight  hold  on 
the  ocean  of  the  new  government,  dishearten  him. 
The  grim  pressure  everywhere  of  the  Northern 
lines  tells  Valois  that  the  splendid  chivalry  of  the 
Southern  arms  is  being  forced  surely  backward. 
Sword  in  hand,  his  resolute  mind  unshaken,  the 
Louisianian  follows  the  Stars  and  Bars,  devoted 
and  never  despairing.  "  Ouand  meme." 

In  the  long  silent  days  at  Lagunitas,  the  patient 
wife  learns  much  from  the  cautious  disclosures  of 
Padre  Francisco.  Her  soldier  husband's  letters  tell 
her  the  absent  master  of  Lagunitas  is  winning  fame 
and  honor  in  a  dreadful  conflict.  It  is  only  vaguely 
understood  by  the  simple  California!!  lady. 

Her  merry  child  is  rapidly  forgetting  the  self- 
exiled  father.  Under  the  bowers  of  Lagunitas  she 
romps  in  leafy  alley  and  shady  bower. 

Judge  Hardin,  grave-faced,  cautious,  frugal  of 
speech,  visits  the  domain  several  times.  In  confer 
ence  with  Padre  Francisco  and  the  vigilant  "  Kain- 
tuck,"  he  adjusts  the  accumulating  business  affairs. 

Riding  over  the  billowing  fields,  mounting  the 
grassy  hills,  threading  the  matchless  forests  of 
uncut  timber,  he  sees  all.  He  sits  plotting  and 
dreaming  on  the  porch  by  the  lake  side.  Thou 
sands  of  horses  and  cattle,  now  crossed  and  im- 


236  LAGUNITAS. 

proved,  are  wealth  wandering  at  will  on  every  side. 
Hardin's  dark  eyes  grow  eager  and  envious.  He 
gazes  excitedly  on  this  lordly  domain.  Suppose 
Valois  should  never  come  back.  This  would  be  a 
royal  heritage.  He  puts  the  maddening  thought 
away.  Within  a  few  miles,  mill  and  flume  tell 
of  the  tracing  down  of  golden  quartz  lodes.  The 
pick  breaks  into  the  hitherto  undisturbed  quartz 
ledges  of  Mariposa  gold.  Is  there  gold  to  be  found 
here,  too  ?  Perhaps. 

Only  an  old  prating  priest,  a  simple  woman,  and 
an  infant,  between  him  and  these  thousands  of  rich 
acres,  should  Valois  be  killed. 

Philip  Hardin  becomes  convinced  of  final  defeat, 
as  1863  draws  to  a  close.  The  days  of  Gettysburg 
and  Vicksburg  ring  the  knell  of  the  Confederacy. 
Even  the  prestige  of  Chancellorsville,  with  its  sa 
cred  victory  sealed  with  Stonewall  Jackson's  pre 
cious  blood,  was  lost  in  the  vital  blow  delivered 
when  the  columns  of  Longstreet  and  Pickett  failed 
to  carry  the  heights  of  Gettysburg. 

The  troops  slain  on  that  field  could  never  be 
replaced.  Boyhood  and  old  age,  alone,  were  left  to 
fill  the  vacant  ranks.  Settling  slowly  down,  the 
gloomy  days  of  collapse  approach. 

While  Lee  skilfully  faced  the  Army  of  the  Poto 
mac,  and  the  Confederacy  was  drained  of  men  to 
hold  the  "  sacred  soil,"  the  Western  fields  were  lit 
up  by  the  fierce  light  of  Grant  and  Sherman's 
genius.  Like  destroying  angels,  seconded  by  Rose- 
crans,  Thomas,  and  McPherson,  these  great  cap 
tains  drew  out  of  the  smoke  of  battle,  gigantic 
figures  towering  above  all  their  rivals. 


LAGUNITAS.  237 

Maxime  Valois  bitterly  deplored  the  uselessness 
of  the  war  in  the  trans-Mississippi  section  of  the 
Confederacy.  It  is  too  late  for  any  Western  divis 
ions  to  affect  the  downward  course  of  the  sacred 
cause  for  which  countless  thousands  have  already 
died. 

The  Potomac  armies  of  the  Union,  torn  with  the 
dissensions  of  warring  generals,  wait  for  the  days 
of  the  inscrutable  Grant  and  fiery  Philip  Sheridan. 
In  the  West,  the  eagle  eye  of  Rosecrans  has  caught 
the  weakness  of  the  unguarded  roads  to  the  heart 
of  the  Confederacy. 

Stone  River  and  Murfreesboro'  tell  of  the  wintry 
struggle  to  the  death  for  the  open  doors  of  Chatta 
nooga.  Though  another  shall  wear  the  laurels  of 
victory,  it  is  the^  proud  boast  of  Rosecrans  alone  to 
have  divined  the  open  joint  in  the  enemy's  harness. 
He  points  the  way  to  the  sea  for  the  irresistible 
Sherman.  While  the  fearless  gray  ranks  thin  day 
by  day,  in  march  and  camp,  Valois  thinks  often  of 
his  distant  home.  Straggling  letters  from  Philip 
Hardin  tell  him  of  the  vain  efforts  of  the  cowed 
secessionists  of  the  Pacific  Coast.  Loyal  General 
George  Wright  holds  the  golden  coast.  Governor 
and  Legislature,  Senators  and  Congressmen,  are 
united.  The  press  and  public  sentiment  are  now  a 
unit  against  disunion  or  separation. 

Colonel  Valois  looked  for  some  effective  action 
of  the  Knights  of  the  Golden  Circle  on  the  Pacific. 
Alas,  for  the  gallant  exile !  Impending  defeat 
renders  the  secret  conspirators  cautious.  In  the 
cheering  news  that  wife  and  child  are  well,  still 
guarded  by  the  sagacious  Padre  Francois,  Valois 


238  LAGUNITAS. 

frets  only  over  the  consecutive  failures  of  Western 
conspiracy.  Folly  and  fear  make  the  Knights  of 
the  Golden  Circle  a  timid  band.  The  "  Stars  and 
Stripes  "  wave  now,  unchallenged,  over  Arizona  and 
New  Mexico.  The  Texans  at  Antelope  Peak  never 
returned  to  carry  the  "  Stars  and  Bars  "  across  the 
Colorado.  Vain  boasters  ! 

While  Bragg  toils  and  plots  to  hurl  himself  on 
Rosecrans  in  the  awful  day  of  Chickamauga,  where 
thirty-five  thousand  dying  and  wounded  are  offered 
up  to  the  Moloch  of  Disunion,  Valois  bitterly  reads 
Hardin's  account  of  the  puerile  efforts  on  the  Pacific. 
It  is  only  boys'  play. 

All  energy,  every  spark  of  daring  seems  to  have 
left  the  men  who,  secure  in  ease  and  fortune,  live 
rich  and  unharassed  in  California.  .Their  Southern 
brethren  in  the  ranks  reel  blindly  in  the  bloody 
mazes  of  battle,  fighting  in  the  field.  A  poor  Con 
federate  lieutenant  attempts  a  partisan  expedition 
in  the  mountains  of  California.  He  is  promptly 
captured.  The  boyish  plan  is  easily  frustrated. 
Bands  of  resolute  marauders  gather  at  Panama  to 
attack  the  Californian  steamers,  gold-laden.  The 
vigilance  of  government  agents  baffles  them.  The 
mail  steamers  are  protected  by  rifle  guns  and  bodies 
of  soldiers.  Loyal  officers  protect  passengers  from 
any  dash  of  desperate  men  smuggled  on  board. 
Secret-service  spies  are  scattered  over  all  the  West 
ern  shores.  Mails,  telegraphs,  express,  and  the 
growing  railway  facilities,  are  in  the  hands  of  the 
government.  It  is  Southern  defeat  everywhere. 

Valois  sadly  realizes  the  only  help  from  the  once 
enthusiastic  West  is  a  few  smuggled  remittances. 


LAGUNITAS.  239 

Here  and  there,  some  quixotic  volunteer  makes  his 
way  in.  An  inspiring  yell  for  Jeff  Davis,  from  a 
tipsy  ranchero,  or  incautious  pothouse  orator,  is  all 
that  the  Pacific  Coast  can  offer. 

The  Confederate  flag  never  sweeps  westward  to 
the  blue  Pacific,  and  the  stars  and  bars  sink  lower 
day  by  day.  As  the  weakness  of  American  com 
merce  is  manifest  on  the  sea,  Colonel  Valois  for 
wards  despairing  letters  to  California.  He  urges 
attacks  from  Mexico,  Japan,  Panama,  or  the  Sand 
wich  Islands,  on  the  defenceless  ships  loaded  with 
American  gold  and  goods.  Unheeded,  alas !  these 
last  appeals.  Unfortunately,  munitions  of  war  are 
not  to  be  obtained  in  the  Pacific.  The  American 
fleets,  though  poor  and  scattered,  are  skilfully 
handled.  Consuls  and  diplomats  everywhere  aid 
in  detecting  the  weakly  laid  plans  of  the  would-be 
pirates. 

Still  Valois  fumes,  sword  in  hand,  at  the  pusilla 
nimity  of  the  Western  sympathizers.  They  are  rich 
and  should  be  arming.  Why  do  they  not  strike  one 
effective  blow  for  the  cause  ?  One  gun  would  sink 
a  lightly  built  Pacific  liner,  or  bring  its  flag  down. 
Millions  of  gold  are  being  exported  to  the  East  from 
the  treasure  fields  of  the  West.  Though  proud  of 
the  dauntless,  ragged  gray  ranks  he  loves,  Valois 
feels  that  the  West  should  organize  a  serious  attack 
on  some  unprotected  Federal  interest,  to  save  the 
issue.  But  the  miserable  failure  of  Sibley  has  dis 
couraged  Confederate  Western  effort.  The  Confed 
erate  California!!  grinds  his  teeth  to  think  that  one 
resolute  dash  of  the  scattered  tens  of  thousands  lying 
in  camp,  uselessly,  in  Arkansas  and  Texas,  would 


240  LAGUNITAS. 

even  now  secure  California.  Even  now,  as  the  Con 
federate  line  of  battle  wastes  away,  desperate  South 
ern  men  dream  of  throwing  themselves  into  Mexico 
as  an  unwelcome,  armed  immigration.  This  blood 
is  precious  at  home. 

Stung  by  the  taunts  of  Eastern  friends,  at  last 
Philip  Hardin  and  his  co-workers  stir  to  some  show 
of  action. 

Peacefully  loading  in  San  Francisco  harbor  for 
Mexico,  a  heavy  schooner  is  filled  with  the  best  at 
tainable  fittings  for  a  piratical  cruise. 

They.  W.  Chapman  rises  and  falls  at  the  wharves 
at  half  gun-shot  from  the  old  U.  S.  frigate  Cyane. 
Her  battery  could  blow  the  schooner  into  splinters, 
with  one  broadside.  Tackle  and  gear  load  the 
peaceful-looking  cases  of  "  alleged "  heavy  mer 
chandise.  Ammunition  and  store  of  arms  are 
smuggled  on  board.  Mingling  unsuspectedly  with 
the  provost  guard  on  the  wharves,  a  determined 
crew  succeed  in  fitting  out  the  boat.  Her  outward 
"  Mexican  voyage  "  is  really  an  intended  descent 
on  the  treasure  steamers. 

Disguised  as  "  heavy  machinery,"  the  rifled  can 
nons  are  loaded.  When  ready  to  slip  out  of  the 
harbor,  past  the  guard-boats,  the  would-be  pirate  is 
suddenly  seized.  The  vigilant  Federal  officials  have 
fathomed  the  design.  Some  one  has  babbled.  Too 
much  talk,  or  too  much  whiskey. 

Neatly  conceived,  well-planned,  and  all  but  exe 
cuted,  it  was  ^  Dold  idea.  To  capture  a  heavy 
Panama  steamer,  gold-laden  ;  to  transfer  her  passen 
gers  to  the  schooner,  and  land  them  in  Mexico  ;  and, 
forcing  the  crew  to  direct  the  vessel,  to  lie  in  wait 


LAGUNlTAS.  241 

for  the  second  outgoing  steamer,  was  a  wise  plan. 
They  would  then  capture  the  incoming  steamer  from 
Panama,  and  ravage  the  coast  of  California. 

With  several  millions  of  treasure  and  three 
steamers,  two  of  them  could  be  kept  as  cruisers  of 
the  Confederacy.  They  could  rove  over  the  Pa 
cific,  unchallenged.  Their  speed  would  be  their 
safety. 

Mexican  and  South  .American  ports  would  fur 
nish  coal  and  supplies..  The  captured  millions 
would  make  friends  everywhere.  The  swift  steam 
ers  could  baffle  the  antiquated  U.  S.  war  vessels  on 
the  Pacific.  A  glorious  raid  over  the  Pacific  would 
end  in  triumph  in  India  or  China. 

These  were  the  efforts  and  measures  urged  by 
Valois  and  the  anxious  Confederates  of  the  East. 

It  was  perfectly  logical.  It  was  absolutely  easy 
to  make  an  effective  diversion  by  sea.  But  some 
fool's  tongue  or  spy's  keen  eye  ruins  all. 

When,  months  after  the  seizure  of  the  Chapman, 
Valois  learns  of  this  pitiful  attempt,  he  curses  the 
stupid  conspirators.  They  had  not  the  brains  to  use 
a  Mexican  or  Central  American  port  for  the  dark 
purposes  of  the  piratical  expedition.  Ample  funds, 
resolute  men,  and  an  unprotected  enemy  would  have 
been  positive  factors  of  success.  Money,  they  had 
in  abundance.  Madness  and  folly  seem  to  have 
ruled  the  half-hearted  conspirators  of  California. 
An  Alabama  or  two  on  the  Pacific. would  have  been 
most  destructive  scourges  of  the  ser  .,  The  last  days 
of  opportunity  glide  by.  The  prosaic  records  of 
the  Federal  Court  in  California  tell  of  the  evanes 
cent  fame  of  Harpending,  Greathouse,  Rubery, 
16 


242  LAGUNITAS. 

Mason,  Kent,  and  the  other  would-be  buccaneers. 
The  "Golden  Circle"  is  badly  shattered. 

Every  inlet  of  the  Pacific  is  watched,  after  the 
fiasco  of  the  Chapman.  She  lies  at  anchor,  an  ig 
noble  prize  to  the  sturdy  old  Cyane.  It  is  kismet. 

Maxime  Valois  mourns  over  the  failure  of  these 
last  plans  to  save  the  ".cause."  Heart-sick,  he  only 
wonders  when  a  Yankee  bullet  will  end  the  throb- 
bings  of  his  unconquerable  heart.  All  is  dark. 

He  fears  not  for  his  wife  and  child.  Their  wealth 
is  secured.  He  loses,  from  day  to  day,  the  feelings 
which  tied  him  once  to  California. 

The  infant  heiress  he  hardly  knows.  His  patient, 
soft-eyed  Western  wife  is  now  only  a  placid  mem 
ory.  Her  gentle  nature  never  roused  the  inner  fires 
of  his  passionate  soul.  Alien  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  a 
soldier  of  fortune,  the  ties  into  which  he  drifted 
were  the  weavings  of  Fate.  His  warrior  soul  pours 
out  its  devotion  in  the  military  oath  to  guard  to  the 
last  the  now  ragged  silken  folds  of  his  regimental 
banner,  the  dear  banner  of  Louisiana.  The  eyes  of 
the  graceful  Creole  beauties  who  gave  it  are  now 
wet  with  bitter  tears.  Beloved  men  are  dying 
vainly,  day  by  day,  under  its  sacred  folds.  Even 
Beauty's  spell  is  vain. 

The  wild  oats  are  golden  once  more  on  the  hills 
of  Lagunitas  ;  the  early  summer  breezes  waft  stray 
leaf  and  blossom  over  the  glittering  lake  in  the  Mari- 
posa  Mountains.  Heading  the  tireless  riflemen  of 
his  command,  Valois  throws  himself  in  desperation 
on  the  Union  lines  at  Chickamauga.  Crashing  vol 
ley,  ringing  "  Napoleons,"  the  wild  yell  of  the  onset, 
the  answering  cheers  of  defiance,  sound  faintly  dis- 


LAGUNITAS.  243 

tant  as  Maxime  Valois  drops  from  his  charger.  He 
lies  seriously  wounded  in  the  wild  rush  of  Bragg's 
devoted  battalions.  He  has  got  his  "  billet." 

For  months,  tossing  on  a  bed  of  pain,  the  Louisi- 
anian  is  a  sacred  charge  to  his  admiring  comrades. 
Far  in  the  hills  of  Georgia,  the  wasted  soldier  chafes 
under  his  absence  from  the  field.  The  beloved 
silken  heralds  of  victory  are  fluttering  far  away  on 
the  heights  of  Missionary  Ridge.  His  faded  eye 
brightens,  his  hollow  cheek  flushes  when  the  glad 
tidings  reach  him  of  the  environment  of  Rosecrans. 
His  own  regiment  is  at  the  front.  He  prays  that 
he  may  lead  it,  when  it  heads  the  Confederate 
advance  into  Ohio.  For  now,  after  Chickamauga's 
terrific  shock,  the  tide  of  victory  bears  northward 
the  flag  of  his  adoration.  Months  have  passed 
since  he  received  any  news  of  his  Western  domain. 
No  letters  from  Donna  Dolores  gladden  him.  Far 
away  from  the  red  hills  of  Georgia,  in  tenderness 
his  thoughts,  chastened  with  illness,  turn  to  the 
dark-eyed  woman  who  waits  for  him.  She  prays 
before  the  benignant  face  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  for 
her  warrior  husband.  Alas,  in  vain  ! 

Silent  is  Hardin.  No  news  comes  from  Padre 
Francisco.  Nothing  from  his  wife.  Valois  trusts 
to  the  future.  The  increasing  difficulty  of  contra 
band  mails,  hunted  blockade-runners,  and  Federal 
espionage,  cut  off  his  home  tidings. 

His  martial  soul  thrilled  at  the  glories  of  Chicka- 
mauga.  Valois  learns  that  California  has  shown  its 
mettle  on  the  fiercest  field  of  the  West.  Cheatham, 
Brooks,  and  fearless  Terry  have  led  to  the  front 
the  wild  masses  of  Bragg's  devoted  soldiery.  These 


244  LAGUNITAS. 

sons  of  California,  like  himself,  were  no  mere  carpet 
knights.  On  scattered  Eastern  fields,  old  friends  of 
the  Pacific  have  drawn  the  sword  or  gallantly  died 
for  Dixie.  Garnett  laid  his  life  down  at  Rich 
Mountain.  Calhoun  Benham  was  a  hero  of  Shiloh. 
Wild  Philip  Herbert  manfully  dies  under  the  Stars 
and  Bars  on  the  Red  River. 

The  stain  of  cold  indifference  is  lifted  by  these 
and  other  self-devoted  soldiers  who  battle  for  the 
South. 

With  heavy  sighs,  the  wounded  colonel  still 
mourns  for  the  failure  to  raise  the  Southern  Cross 
in  the  West.  Every  day  proves  how  useless  have 
been  all  efforts  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Virginia  is 
now  the  "  man  eater  "  of  the  Confederacy.  Valois 
is  haunted  with  the  knowledge  that  some  one  will 
retrace  the  path  of  Rosecrans.  Some  genius  will 
break  through  the  open  mountain-gates  and  cut  the 
Confederacy  in  twain.  It  is  an  awful  suspense. 

While  waiting  to  join  his  command,  he  hungers 
for  home  news.  Grant,  the  indomitable  champion 
of  the  North,  hurls  Bragg  from  Missionary  Ridge. 
Leaping  on  the  trail  of  the  great  army,  which  for 
the  first  time  deserts  its  guns  and  flags,  the  blue- 
clad  pursuers  press  on  toward  Chattanooga.  They 
grasp  the  iron  gate  of  the  South  with  mailed  hand. 

The  "  Silent  Man  of  Destiny  "  is  called  East  to 
measure  swords  with  stately  Lee.  He  trains  his 
Eastern  legions  for  the  last  death-grapple.  On  the 
path  toward  the  sea,  swinging  out  like  huntsmen, 
the  columns  of  Sherman  wind  toward  Atlanta. 
Bluff,  impetuous,  worldly  wise,  genius  inspired, 
Sherman  rears  clay  by  day  the  pyramid  of  his 


LAGUNITAS.  245 

deathless  fame.  Confident  and  steady,  bold  and 
untiring,  fierce  as  a  Hannibal,  cunning  as  a  pan 
ther,  old  Tecumseh  bears  down  upon  the  indefat 
igable  Joe  Johnston.  Now  comes  a  game  worthy 
of  the  immortal  gods.  It  is  played  on  bloody 
fields.  The  crafty  antagonists  grapple  in  every 
cunning  of  the  art  of  war.  Rivers  of  human  blood 
make  easy  the  way.  The  serpent  of  the  Western 
army  writhes  itself  into  the  vitals  of  the  torn  and 
bleeding  South.  Everywhere  the  resounding  crash 
of  arms.  Alas,  steadfast  as  Maxime  Valois*  nature 
may  be,  tried  his  courage  as  his  own  battle  blade, 
the  roar  of  battle  from  east  to  west  tells  him  of  the 
day  of  wrath !  The  yells  and  groans  of  the  tram 
pled  thousands  of  the  Wilderness,  are  echoed  by  the 
despairing  chorus  of  the  dying  myriads  of  Kene- 
saw  and  Dalton.  A  black  pall  hangs  over  a  land 
given  up  to  the  butchery  of  brothers.  Mountain 
chains,  misted  in  the  blue  smoke  of  battle,  rise 
unpityingly  over  heaps  of  unburied  dead  from  the 
Potomac  to  the  Mississippi.  Maxime  Valois  knows 
at  last  the  penalty  of  the  fatal  conspiracy.  A 
sacrificed  generation,  ruined  homes,  and  the  grim 
ploughshare  of  war  rives  the  fairest  fields  of  the 
Land  of  the  Cypress. 

Fearless  and  fate-defying,  under  ringing  guns, 
crashing  volley,  and  sweeping  charge,  the  Southern 
veterans  only  close  up  the  devoted  gray  ranks. 
They  are  thinning  with  every  conflict,  where  Lee 
and  Johnston  build  the  slim  gray  wall  against  the 
resistless  blue  sea  sweeping  down. 

There  is  no  pity  in  the  pale  moon.  The  cold, 
steady  stars  shine  down  on  the  upturned  faces  of 


246  LAGUNITAS. 

the  South's  best  and  bravest.  No  craven  blenching 
when  the  tattered  Stars  and  Bars  bear  up  in  battle 
blast.  And  yet  the  starry  flag  crowns  mountain 
and  rock.  It  sweeps  through  blood-stained  gorges 
and  past  battle-scarred  defile.  Onward,  ever  south 
ward.  The  two  giant  swordsmen  reel  in  this  duel 
of  desperation.  Sherman  and  Johnston  may  not  be 
withheld.  The  hour  of  fate  is  beginning  to  knell 
the  doom  of  the  cause.  Southern  mothers  and 
wives  have  given  up  their  unreturning  brave  as  a 
costly  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  Baal.  Valois,  once 
more  in  command,  a  colonel  now,  riding  pale  and 
desperate,  before  his  men,  sees  their  upturned 
glances.  The  dauntless  ranks,  filing  by,  touch  his 
heroic  heart.  He  fears,  when  Atlanta's  refuge  re 
ceives  the  beaten  host,  that  the  end  is  nigh. 

Bereft  of  news  from  his  home,  foreseeing  the  final 
collapse  in  Virginia,  assured  that  the  sea  is  lost  to 
the  South,  the  colonel's  mood  is  daily  sadder.  His 
hungry  eyes  are  wolfish  in  their  steady  glare.  Only 
a  soldier  now.  His  flag  is  his  altar  of  daily  sacrifice. 

Port  after  port  falls,  foreign  flatterers  stand  coldly 
aloof,  empty  magazines  and  idle  fields  are  signifi 
cant  signs  of  the  end.  Useless  cotton  cannot  be 
sent  out  or  made  available,  priceless  though  it  be. 
The  rich  western  Mississippi  is  now  closed  as  a  sup 
ply  line  for  the  armies.  The  paper  funds  of  the 
new  nation  are  mere  tokens  of  unpaid  promises, 
never  to  be  redeemed. 

Never  to  falter,  not  to  shun  the  driving  attacks  of 
the  pursuing  horse  or  grappling  foot,  to  watch  his 
battle-flag  glittering  in  the  van,  to  lead,  cheer,  hope, 
inspire,  and  madly  head  his  men,  is  the  second 


LAGUNITAS.  247 

nature  of  Valois.     He  has  sworn  not  to  see  his  flag 
dishonored. 

It  never  occurs  to  him  to  ask  where  his  creed 
came  from.  His  blood  thrills  with  the  passionate 
devotion  which  blots  out  any  sense  of  mere  right 
and  wrong.  His  motto  is  "  For  Dixie's  Land  to 
Death." 


CHAPTER    XII. 

HOOD'S  DAY. — PEACHTREE  CREEK. — VALOIS*  LAST 
TRUST. — DE  GRESS'  BATTERY. — DEAD  ON  THE 
FIELD  OF  HONOR. 

A  LANTERN  burns  dimly  before  the  tent  of 
Colonel  Valois  on  the  night  of  July  21,  1864. 
Within  the  lines  of  Atlanta  there  is  commotion. 
Myriad  lights  flicker  on  the  hills.  A  desperate  army 
at  bay  is  facing  the  enemy.  Seven  miles  of  armed 
environment  mocks  the  caged  tigers  behind  these 
hard-held  ramparts.  Facing  north  and  east,  the 
gladiators  of  the  morrow  lie  on  their  arms,  ready 
now  for  the  summons  to  fall  in,  for  a  wild  rush  on 
Sherman's  pressing  lines.  It  is  no  holiday  camp,  with 
leafy  bowers  and  lovely  ladies  straying  in  the  moon 
light.  No  dallying  and  listening  to  Romeos  in  gray 
and  gold.  No  silver-throated  bugles  wake  the  night 
with  "  Lorena."  No  soft  refrain  of  the  "  Suwanee 
River  "  melts  all  the  hearts.  It  is  not  a  gala  even 
ing,  when  "  Maryland,  my  Maryland,"  rises  in  grand 
appeal.  The  now  national  "  Dixie  "  tells  not  of  fields 
to  be  won.  It  is  a  dark  presage  of  the  battle  mor 
row.  Behind  grim  redan  and  salient,  the  footsore 


248  LAGUNITAS. 

troops  rest  from  the  day's  indecisive  fighting.  The 
foeman  is  not  idle ;  all  night  long,  rumbling  trains 
and  busy  movements  tell  that  "  Uncle  Billy  Sher 
man  "  never  sleeps.  His  blue  octopus  crawls  and 
feels  its  way  unceasingly.  The  ragged  gray  ranks, 
whose  guns  are  their  only  pride,  whose  motto  is 
"  Move  by  day ;  fight  always,"  are  busy  with  the 
hum  of  preparation. 

It  is  a  month  of  horror.  North  and  South  stand 
aghast  at  the  unparalleled  butchery  of  the  Wilder 
ness  and  Spottsylvania.  The  awful  truth  that  Grant 
has  paved  his  bloody  way  to  final  victory  with 
one  hundred  thousand  human  bodies  since  he 
crossed  the  Rapidan,  makes  the  marrow  cold  in  the 
bones  of  the  very  bravest.  Sixty  thousand  foes, 
forty  thousand  friends,  are  the  astounding  death 
figures.  As  if  the  dark  angel  of  death  was  not 
satisfied  with  a  carnage  unheard  of  in  modern  times, 
Johnstqii,  the  old  Marshal  Ney  of  the  Confederacy, 
gives  way,  in  command  of  the  Southern  army 
covering  Atlanta,  to  J.  B.  Hood.  He  is  the  Texan 
lion.  Grizzled  Sherman  laughs  on  the  i8th  of  July, 
when  his  spies  tell  him  Johnston  is  relieved.  "  Re 
plenish  every  caisson  from  the  reserve  parks ;  dis 
tribute  campaign  ammunition,"  he  says,  briefly. 
"  Hood  would  assault  me  with  a  corporal's  guard. 
He  will  fight  by  day  or  night.  I  know  him,"  Uncle 
Billy  says. 

The  great  Tecumseh  feels  a  twinge  as  he  whips 
out  this  verdict.  Hood's  tactics  are  fearful.  There 
are  thousands  of  mute  witnesses  of  his  own  fatal 
rashness  lying  at  Kenesaw,  whose  tongues  are 
sealed  in  death.  On  that  sad  day,  Sherman  out- 


LAGUNITAS.  249 

Hooded  Hood.  But  the  blunt  son  of  Ohio  is 
right.  He  is  a  demi-god  in  intellect,  and  yet  he 
has  the  intuition  of  femininity.  He  has  caught 
Hood's  fighting  character  at  a  glance. 

There's  no  time  to  chaffer  over  the  situation. 
McPherson,  the  pride  of  the  army,  Thomas,  the 
Rock  of  Chickamauga,  and  wary  Schofield,  draw 
in  the  great  Union  forces.  Gallant  Howard  is  in 
this  knightly  circle.  "  Black  Jack"  Logan,  the 
"  Harry  Monmouth  "  of  this  coming  field,  connects 
on  the  iQth.  There  has  been  hot  work  to-day. 
Firing  in  Thomas's  front  tells  the  great  strategist 
that  Hood  has  tasted  blood.  Enough! 

Sherman  knows  how  that  mad  Texan  will  throw 
his  desperate  men  to  the  front,  in  the  snapping, 
ringing  zone  of  fire  and  flame.  Hooker  receives  the 
shock  of  the  onset,  reinforced  by  heavy  batteries, 
whose  blazing  guns  tear  lightning-rent  lanes  through 
the  Confederates.  Not  a  second  to  lose.  The  gray 
swarms  are  pouring  on  like  mountain  wolves. 

Fighting  sharp  and  hot,  the  Union  lines  reach 
the  strong  defences  pf  Peachtree  Creek.  Here 
Confederate  Gilmer's  engineering  skill  has  prepared 
ditch  and  fraise,  abattis  and  chevaux-de-frise,  with 
yawning  graves  for  the  soon-forgotten  brave. 

McPherson,  Schofield,  Howard,  Hooker,  and 
Palmer  are  all  in  line,  deployed  with  strong  reserves. 

Anxious  Sherman  sends  clouds  of  orderly  officers 
and  scouts,  right  and  left.  Hood's  defiant  volleys 
die  away.  Will  the  rush  come  to-day?  No;  the 
hours  wear  away.  The  night  brings  quiet  along 
the  lines.  Though  a  red  harvest  lies  on  the  field,  it 
is  not  the  crowning  effort  of  the  entire  enemy.  It 


250  LAGUNITAS. 

is  only  a  rattling  day  of  uneasy,  hot-tempered 
fight. 

But  the  awful  morrow  is  to  come.  Sherman 
soon  divines  the  difficulty  of  fathoming  the  Texan's 
real  designs.  Hood  is  familiar  with  the  ground. 
Drawing  back  to  the  lines  of  Atlanta,  Hood  crouches 
for  a  desperate  spring.  The  ridges  of  the  red  clay 
hills,  with  little  valleys  running  to  the  Chattahoo- 
chee  in  the  west,  and  Ocmulgee  in  the  east,  cover 
his  manoeuvres.  Corn  and  cotton  patches,  with 
thick  forests  between,  lie  along  the  extended  front. 
A  tangled  undergrowth  masks  the  entire  movements 
of  the  lurking  enemy. 

Tireless  Sherman,  expectant  of  some  demoniac 
rush,  learns  that  the  array  before  him  is  under 
Hood,  Hardee,  and  the  audacious  cavalry  leader, 
Wheeler.  Stewart's  and  Smith's  Georgian  levies 
are  also  in  line. 

Every  disposition  is  made  by  the  wary  antago 
nists.  Sherman,  eagle-eyed  and  prompt  to  join  issue, 
gains  a  brief  repose  before  the  gray  of  morning 
looses  the  fires  of  hell.  McPherson,  young  and 
brilliant,  whose  splendid  star  is  in  its  zenith,  firmly 
holds  his  exposed  lines  along  the  railroad  between 
two  valleys.  In  his  left  and  rear,  the  forest  throws 
out  dark  shades  to  cover  friend  and  foe.  Between 
the  waiting  armies,  petty  murder  stays  its  hands. 
The  stars  sweep  to  the  west,  bringing  the  last 
morning  to  thousands.  They  are  now  dreaming, 
perhaps,  of  the  homes  they  will  never  see.  A  thrill 
of  nervous  tension  keeps  a  hundred  thousand  men 
in  vague,  dumb  expectancy.  The  coming  shock 
will  be  terrible.  No  one  can  tell  the  issue. 


LAGUNITAS.  251 

As  the  worn  Confederate  sentinel  drags  up  and 
down  before  the  tent  of  Colonel  Valols,  he  can  see 
the  thoughtful  veteran  sitting,  his  tired  head  rest 
ing  on  a  wasted  hand. 

Spirit  and  high  soul  alone  animate  now  the 
Louisiana  colonel.  Hope  has  fled.  Over  his  de 
voted  head  the  sentinel  stars  swing,  with  neither 
haste  nor  rest,  toward  the  Occident.  They  will  shine 
on  Lagunitas,  smiling,  fringed  with  its  primeval 
pines. 

In  her  sleep,  perhaps  his  little  girl  calls  for  him 
in  vain.  He  is  doomed  not  to  hear  that  childish 
voice  again. 

A  bundle  of  letters,  carelessly  tossed  down  at 
head-quarters,  have  been  carried  in  his  bosom  dur 
ing  the  day's  scattering  fight.  They  are  all  old  in 
their  dates,  and  travel-worn  in  following  the  shift 
ing  positions  of  his  skeleton  regiment.  They  bring 
him,  at  last,  nearly  a  year's  news. 

Suddenly  he  springs  to  his  feet,  and  his  voice  is 
almost  a  shriek.  "  Sentinel,  call  the  corporal."  In 
a  moment,  Valois,  with  quivering  lip,  says,  "  Cor 
poral,  ask  Major  Peyton  to  be  kind  enough  to  join 
me  for  a  few  moments." 

When  his  field-officer  approaches,  anticipating 
some  important  charge  of  duty,  sword  and  revolver 
in  hand,  the  ghastly  face  of  Valois  alarms  him. 

"  Colonel  !  "  he  cries.  Valois  motions  him  to  be 
seated. 

"  Peyton,"  begins  Valois,  brokenly,  "  I  am  struck 
to  the  heart." 

He  is  ashy  pale.  His  head  falls  on  his  friend's 
bosom. 


252  LAGUNITAS. 

"  My  wife!  "  He  needs  not  finish.  The  open  let 
ters  tell  the  story.  It  is  death  news. 

The  major  clasps  his  friend's  thin  hands. 

"  Colonel,  you  must  bear  up.  We  are  fallen  on 
sad,  sad  days."  His  voice  fails  him.  "  Remember 
to-morrow;  we  must  stand  for  the  South." 

The  chivalric  Virginian's  voice  sounds  hollow  and 
strange.  He  sought  the  regiment,  wr>n  over  by 
Valois'  lofty  courage  and  stern  military  pride.  To 
morrow  the  army  is  to  grapple  and  crush  bold 
Sherman.  It  will  be  a  death  struggle. 

Yes,  out  of  these  walls,  a  thunderbolt,  the  heavy 
column,  already  warned,  was  to  seek  the  Union 
left,  and  strike  a  Stonewall  Jackson  blow.  Its 
march  will  be  covered  by  the  friendly  woods.  The 
keen-eyed  adjutants  are  already  warning  the  cap 
tains  of  every  detail  of  the  attack.  Calm  and  un 
moved,  the  gaunt  centurions  of  the  thinned  host 
accepted  the  honorable  charges  of  the  forlorn  hope. 
Valois'  powder-seasoned  fragment  of  the  army  was 
a  "  corps  d'elite."  Peyton  wondered,  as  he  watched 
his  suffering  colonel,  if  either  would  see  another 
sparkling  jewel-braided  night. 

The  blow  of  Hood  must  be  the  hammer  of  Thor. 

"  To-morrow,  yes,  to-morrow,"  mechanically  re 
plied  Valois.  "  I  will  be  on  duty  to-morrow." 

"  To-night,  Peyton,"  he  simply  said,  "  I  must  suf 
fer  my  last  agony.  My  poor  Dolores  !  Gone — my 
wife." 

The  tears  trickled  through  his  fingers  as  he  bowed 
his  graceful  head. 

"And  my  little  Isabel,"  he  softly  said;  "she 
will  be  an  orphan.  Will  God  protect  that  tender 


LAGUNITAS.  253 

child  ?  "  Valois  was  talking  to  himself,  with  his 
eyes  fixed  on  the  dark  night-shadows  hiding  the 
Federal  lines.  A  stern,  defiant  gaze. 

Peyton  shivered  with  a  nervous  chill. 

"  Colonel,  this  must  not  be."  In  the  silence  of 
the  brooding  night,  it  seems  a  ghastly  call  from 
another  world,  this  message  of  death. 

Valois  proudly  checks  himself. 

"  Peyton,  I  have  few  friends  left  in  this  land  now. 
I  want  you  to  look  these  letters  over."  He  hands 
him  several  letters  from  Hardin  and  from  the  priest. 
With  tender  delicacy,  his  hands  close  on  the  last 
words  of  affection  from  the  gentle'  dark-eyed  wife, 
who  brought  him  the  great  dowry  of  Lagunitas, 
and  gave  him  his  little  Isabel. 

Peyton  reads  the  words,  old  in  date  but  new  in 
their  crushing  force  of  sorrow  to  the  husband.  Rest 
ing  on  the  stacked  arms  in  front  of  his  tent,  the 
colors  of  Louisiana  and  the  silken  shreds  of  the 
Stars  and  Bars  wait  for  the  bugles  of  reveille  call 
ing  again  to  battle. 

Dolores  dying  of  sudden  illness,  cut  off  in  her 
youthful  prime,  was  only  able  to  receive  the  last 
rites  of  the  Church,  to  smile  fondly  in  her  last 
moments,  as  she  kisses  the  picture  of  the  absent 
soldier  of  the  Southern  Cross.  Francois  Ribaut, 
the  French  gentleman,  writes  a  sad  letter,  with  no 
formula  of  the  priest.  He  knows  Maxime  Valois  is 
face  to  face  with  death,  in  these  awful  days  of  war. 
A  costly  sacrifice  on  the  altar  of  Southern  rights 
may  be  his  fate  at  any  moment. 

It  is  to  comfort,  not  admonish,  to  pledge  every 
friendly  office,  that  the  delicate-minded  padre 


254  LAGUNITAS. 

softens  the  blow.  Later,  the  priest  writes  of  the 
lonely  child,  whose  tender  youth  wards  off  the  blow 
of  the  rod  of  sorrow. 

Philip  Hardin's  letter  mainly  refers  to  the  impor 
tant  business  interests  of  the  vast  estate.  The  pos 
sibility  of  the  orphanage  of  Isabel  occurs.  He  sug 
gests  the  propriety  of  Colonel  Valois'  making  and 
forwarding  a  new  will,  and  constituting  a  guardian 
ship  of  the  young  heiress.  In  gravest  terms  of 
friendship,  he  reminds  Valois  to  indicate  his  wishes 
as  to  the  child,  her  nurture  and  education.  The 
fate  of  a  soldier  may  overtake  her  surviving  parent 
any  day. 

Other  unimportant  is-sues  drop  out  of  sight.  Har- 
din  has  told  of  the  last  attempt  to  fit  out  a  schooner 
at  a  secluded  lumber  landing  in  Santa  Cruz  County. 
They  tried  to  smuggle  on  board  a  heavy  gun 
secretly  transported  there.  An  assemblage  of  des 
perate  men,  gathering  in  the  lonely  woods,  were 
destined  to  man  the  boat.  By  accident,  the  Union 
League  discovers  the  affair.  Flight  is  forced  on  the 
would-be  pirates. 

Valois'  lip  curls  as  he  tells  Peyton  of  the  utter 
prostration  of  the  last  Confederate  hope  beyond 
the  Colorado.  All  vain  and  foolish  schemes. 

"I  wish  your  advice,  Major,"  he  resumes.  In 
brief  summing  up,  he  gives  Peyton  the  outline  of 
his  family  history  and  his  general  wishes. 

A  final  result  of  the  hurried  conclave  is  the  hasty 
drawing  up  of  a  will.  It  is  made  and  duly  wit 
nessed.  It  makes  Philip  Hardin  guardian  of  the 
heiress  and  sole  executor  of  his  testament.  His 
newly  descended  property  he  leaves  to  the  girl  child, 


LAGUNITAS.  255 

with  directions  that  she  shall  be  sent  to  Paris.  She 
is  to  be  educated  to  the  time  of  her  majority  at  the 
"Sacred  Heart."  There  in  that  safe  retreat,  where 
the  world's  storms  cannot  reach  the  defenceless 
child,  he  feels  she  will  be  given  the  bearing  and 
breeding  of  a  Valois.  She  must  be  fitted  for  her 
high  fortunes. 

He  writes  a  fond  letter  to  Father  Francisco,  to 
whom  he  leaves  a  handsome  legacy,  ample  to  make 
him  independent  of  all  pecuniary  cares.  He  adjures 
that  steadfast  friend  to  shield  his  darling's  child 
hood,  to  follow  and  train  her  budding  mind  in 
its  development.  He  informs  him  of  every  dispo 
sition,  and  sends  the  tenderest  thanks  for  a  self- 
devotion  of  years. 

The  farewell  signature  is  affixed.  Colonel  Valois 
indites  to  Judge  Philip  Hardin  a  letter  of  last  re 
quests.  It  is  full  of  instructions  and  earnest  ap 
peal.  When  all  is  done,  he  closes  his  letter.  "  I 
send  you  every  document  suggested.  My  heart  is 
sore.  I  can  no  longer  write.  I  will  lead  my  regi 
ment  to-morrow  in  a  desperate  assault.  If  I  give 
my  life  for  my  country,  Hardin,  let  my  blood  seal 
this  sacred  bond  between  you  and  me.  I  leave 
you  my  motherless  child.  May  God  deal  with  you 
and  yours  as  you  shall  deal  with  the  beloved  little 
one,  whose  face  I  shall  never  see. 

"  If  I  had  a  thousand  lives  I  would  lay  them 
down  for  the  flag  which  may  cover  me  to-mor 
row  night.  Old  friend,  remember  a  dying  man's 
trust  in  you  and  your  honor." 

When  Peyton  has  finished  reading  these  at  Colo 
nel  Valois'  request,  his  eyes  are  moist.  To-night 


LAGUNITAS. 

the  bronzed  chief  is  as  tender  as  a  woman.  The 
dauntless  soul,  strong  in  battle  scenes,  is  shaken 
with  the  memories  of  a  motherless  little  one.  She 
must  face  the  world  alone,  God's  mercy  her  only 
stay. 

Colonel  Valois,  who  has  explained  the  isolation 
of  the  child,  has  left  his  estate  in  remainder  to  the 
heirs  of  Judge  Valois,  of  New  Orleans. 

Old  and  tottering  to  his  tomb  is  that  veteran  ju 
rist.  The  possible  heir  would  be  Armand,  the  boy 
student,  cut  off  in  Paris.  No  home-comings  now. 
The  ports  are  all  closed. 

When  all  is  prepared,  Colonel  Valois  says  ten 
derly  :  "  Peyton,  I  have  some  money  left  at  Ha 
vana.  I  will  endorse  these  drafts  to  you,  and  give 
you  a  letter  to  the  banker  there.  You  can  keep 
them  for  me.  I  want  you  Jo  ride  into  Atlanta  and 
see  these  papers  deposited.  Let  there  be  made  a 
special  commission  for  their  delivery  to  our  agent  at 
Havana.  Let  them  leave  Atlanta  at  once.  I  want 
no  failure  if  Sherman  storms  the  city.  I  will  not 
be  alive  to  see  it." 

Awed  by  the  prophetic  coolness  of  Valois' 
speech,  Peyton  sends  for  his  horse.  He  rides  down  to 
the  town,  where  hundreds  on  hundreds  of  wounded 
sufferers  groan  on  every  side.  Thousands  desper 
ately  wait  in  the  agony  of  suspense  for  the  mor 
row's  awful  verdict.  He  gallops  past  knots  of  reck 
less  merry-makers  who  jest  on  the  edge  of  their 
graves.  Henry  Peyton  bears  the  precious  packet 
and  delivers  it  to  an  officer  of  the  highest  rank.  He 
is  on  the  eve  of  instant  departure  for  the  sea-board. 
Cars  and  engines  are  crowded  with  the  frightened 


LAGUNITAS.  257 

people,  flying  from  the  awful  shock  of  Hood's  im 
pending  assault. 

This  solemn  duty  performed,  the  Major  rejoins 
Colonel  Valois  at  a  gallop.  Lying  on  his  couch, 
Valois'  face  brightens  as  he  springs  from  his  rest. 
"  It  is  well.  I  thank  you,"  he  simply  says.  He  is 
calm,  even  cheerful.  The  bonhomie  of  his  race  is 
manifest.  "  Major  Peyton,"  he  says,  pleasantly,  "I 
would  like  you  to  remember  the  matters  of  this  even 
ing.  Should  you  live  through  this  war  the  South  will 
be  in  wild  disorder.  I  have  referred  to  your  kind 
ness,  in  my  letter  to  Hardin  and  in  a  paper  I  have 
enclosed  to  him.  It  is  for  my  child.  You  will  have 
a  home  at  Lagunitas  if  you  ever  go  to  California." 

He  discusses  a  few  points  of  the  movement  of  the 
morrow.  There  is  no  extra  solemnity  in  going 
under  fire.  They  have  lived  in  a  zone  of  fire  since 
Sherman's  pickets  crossed  the  open,  months  ago. 
But  this  supreme  effort  of  Hood  marks  a  solemn 
epoch.  The  great  shops  and  magazines  of  Atlanta, 
the  railroad  repair  works,  foundries  and  arsenals, 
the  geographical  importance,  studied  fortifications, 
and  population  to  be  protected,  make  the  city  a 
stronghold  of  ultimate  importance  to  the  enfeebled 
South. 

If  the  Northern  bayonets  force  these  last  doors 
of  Georgia,  then  indeed  the  cause  is  desperate. 

When  midnight  approached,  Colonel  Valois 
calmly  bade  his  friend  "  Good-night."  Escorting 
him  to  his  tent,  he  whispers,  "  Peyton,  take  your 
coffee  with  me  to-morrow.  I  will  send  for  you." 

Slumber  wraps  friend  and  foe  alike.  All  too 
soon  the  gray  dawn  points  behind  the  hills.  There 


258  LAGUNITAS. 

is  bustle  and  confusion.  Shadowy  groups  cluster 
around  the  waning  fires  long  before  daybreak.  The 
gladiators  are  falling  into  line.  Softly,  silently,  day 
steals  over  the  eastern  hills.  Is  it  the  sun  of  Aus- 
terlitz  or  of  Waterloo  ? 

Uneasy  picket-firing  ushers  in  the  battle  day. 
Colonel  Valois  and  Major  Peyton  share  their  frugal 
meal.  The  rattle  of  picket  shots  grows  into  a  steady, 
teasing  firing.  Well-instructed  outpost  officers  are 
carrying  on  this  noisy  mockery. 

Massed  behind  the  circling  lines  of  Atlanta,  within 
the  radius  of  a  mile  and  a  half,  the  peerless  troops 
who  doubt  Hood's  ability,  but  who  adore  his  daunt 
less  bravery,  are  silently  massed  for  the  great 
attack. 

The  officers  of  Valois'  regiment,  summoned  by 
the  adjutant,  receive  their  Colonel's  final  instruc 
tions.  His  steady  eye  turns  fondly  on  the  men 
who  have  been  his  comrades,  friends,  and  devoted 
admirers.  "  Gentlemen,"  he  says,  "  we  will  have 
serious  work  to-day.  I  shall  expect  you  to  remem 
ber  what  Georgia  hopes  from  Louisiana." 

Springing  to  his  saddle,  he  doffs  his  cap  as  the 
head  of  the  regiment  files  by,  in  flank  movement. 
The  lithe  step,  steady  swing,  and  lightly  poised  arms 
proclaim  matchless  veterans.  They  know  his  every 
gesture  in  the  field.  He  is  their  idol. 

As  Peyton  rides  up,  he  whispers  (for  the  colors 
have  passed),  "  Henry,  if  you  lead  the  regiment 
out  of  this  battle,  I  ask  you  never  to  forget  my  last 
wishes."  The  two  friends  clasp  hands  silently. 
With  a  bright  smile,  whose  light  lingers  as  he  spurs 
past  the  springy  column,  he  takes  the  lead,  falcon- 


LAGUNITAS.  259 

eyed,  riding  down  silently  into  the  gloomy  forest- 
shades  of  death. 

A  heavy  mass  of  troops,  pushing  out  in  swift 
march,  works  steadily  to  the  Union  left,  and  gains 
its  ground  rapidly.  The  Seventeenth  Corps  of 
Blair,  struck  in  flank,  give  way.  The  Sixteenth 
Union  Corps  of  Dodge  are  quickly  rushed  up. 
The  enemy  are  struck  hard.  Crash  and  roar  of 
battle  rise  now  in  deafening  clamor.  Away  to  the 
unprotected  Union  rear  ride  the  wild  troopers  of 
Wheeler.  The  whole  left  of  Sherman's  troops  are 
struck  at  disadvantage.  They  are  divided,  or 
thrown  back  in  confusion  toward  Decatur.  The 
desperate  struggle  sways  to  and  fro  till  late  in  the 
day.  With  a  rush  of  Hood's  lines,  Murray's  bat 
tery  of  regular  artillery  is  captured.  The  Stars  and 
Bars  sweep  on  in  victory. 

Onward  press  the  Confederate  masses  in  all  the 
pride  of  early  victory.  The  Fifteenth  Corps,  under 
Morgan  L.  Smith,  make  a  desperate  attempt  to 
hold  on  at  a  strong  line  of  rifle  pits.  The  seething 
gray  flood  rolls  upon  them  and  sends  them  stagger 
ing  back  four  hundred  yards.  Over  two  cut-off 
batteries,  the  deadly  carnage  smites  blue  and  gray 
alike.  Charge  and  countercharge  succeed  in  the 
mad  struggle  for  these  guns.  Neither  side  can  use 
them  until  a  final  wave  shall  sweep  one  set  of  mad 
men  far  away. 

With  desperate  valor,  Morgan  L.  Smith  at  last 
claims  the  prize.  His  cheering  troops  send  double 
canister  from  the  regained  batteries  into  the  gray 
columns  of  attack.  General  Sherman,  at  a  deserted 
house,  where  he  has  made  his  bivouac,  paces  the 


260  LAGUNITAS. 

porch  like  a  restless  tiger.  The  increasing  firing  on 
the  left,  tells  him  of  this  heavy  morning  attack.  A 
map  spread  on  a  table  catches  his  eye  from  time  to 
time.  The  waiting  crowd  of  orderlies  and  staff  offi 
cers  have,  one  by  one,  dashed  off  to  reform  the  lines 
or  strengthen  the  left.  While  the  firing  all  along 
the  line  is  everywhere  ominous,  the  roar  on  the  left 
grows  higher  and  higher.  Out  from  the  fatal  woods 
begin  to  stream  weary  squads  of  the  wounded  and 
stragglers.  The  floating  skulkers  hover  at  the  edge 
of  the  red  tide  of  conflict. 

Ha!  A  wounded  aide  dashes  up  with  tidings  of 
the  ominous  gap  on  the  left.  That  fearful  sweep 
of  Wheeler's  cavalry  to  the  rear  is  known  at  last  by 
the  fires  of  burning  trains.  With  a  few  brief  words 
of  counsel,  and  a  nod  of  his  stately  head,  McPher- 
son,  the  splendid  light  of  battle  on  his  brow,  gallops 
away  to  reform  these  broken  lines.  The  eye  of  the 
chief  must  animate  his  corps. 

Hawk-eyed  Sherman  watches  the  glorious  young 
general  as  he  turns  into  the  forest.  A  grim  look 
settles  on  the  general's  face.  He  runs  his  eye  over 
the  map.  As  the  tiger's  approach  is  heralded  by 
the  clatter  of  the  meaner  animals,  so  from  out  that 
forest  the  human  debris  tell  of  Hood's  battle  ham 
mer  crashing  down  on  that  left  "  in  air."  Is  there 
yet  time  to  reform  a  battle,  now  fighting  itself  in 
sudden  bloody  encounters?  All  is  at  haphazard. 
A  sigh  of  relief.  McPherson  is  there.  His  ready 
wit,  splendid  energy,  and  inspiring  presence  are 
worth  a  thousand  meaner  souls,  in  the  wild  mael 
strom  of  that  terrible  July  day. 

Old  Marshal  Tecumseh,  with  unerring  intuition, 


LAGUNITAS.  261 

knows  that  the  creeping  skirmishers  have  felt  the 
whole  left  of  his  position.  With  the  interior  lines 
and  paths  of  the  forest  to  aid,  if  anything  has  gone 
wrong,  if  gap  or  lap  has  occurred,  then  on  those 
unguarded  key-points  and  accidental  openings,  the 
desperate  fighters  of  the  great  Texan  will  throw 
their  characteristic  fierceness.  Atlanta's  tall  chim 
neys  rise  on  the  hills  to  the  west.  There,  thou 
sands,  with  all  at  stake,  listen  to  the  rolling  notes  of 
this  bloody  battle.  High  in  the  air,  bursting  shells 
with  white  puffs  light  up  the  clouds  of  musketry 
smoke.  Charging  yells  are  borne  down  the  wind, 
with  ringing  answering  cheers.  The  staccato  notes 
of  the  snapping  Parrotts  accentuate  the  battle's  din. 

Sherman,  with  cloudy  brow,  listens  for  some  news 
of  the  imperilled  left  wing.  Is  the  iron  army  of  the 
Tennessee  to  fail  him  now?  Seven  miles  of  bayo 
nets  are  in  that  great  line,  from  left  to  right,  headed 
by  McPherson,  Schofield,  and  Thomas,  the  flower 
of  the  Union  Army. 

Looking  forward  to  a  battle  outside  Atlanta,  a 
siege,  or  a  flanking  bit  of  military  chesswork,  the 
great  Union  commander  is  dragged  now  into  a 
purely  defensive  battle.  Where  is  McPherson  ? 

Sherman  has  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  horrible 
misgiving.  He  saw  the  mad  panic  of  the  first  Bull 
Run.  He  led  the  only  compact  body  of  troops  off 
that  fatal  field  himself.  It  was  his  own  brigade. 
In  his  first-fought  field,  he  showed  the  unshakable 
nerve  of  Macdonald  at  Wagram.  But  he  has  also 
seen  the  fruits  of  the  wild  stampede  of  McCook 
and  Crittenden's  divisions  since  at  Chickamauga.  It 
tore  the  laurels  from  Rosecrans'  brow.  Is  this  to 


262  LAGUNITAS. 

be  a  panic?  Rosecrans'  defeat  made  Sherman  the 
field-marshal  of  the  West. 

At  Missionary  Ridge,  even  the  invincibles  of  the 
South  fled  their  lines  in  sudden  impulse,  giving  up  an 
almost  impregnable  position.  The  haughty  old  artil 
lerist,  Braxton  Bragg,  was  forced  to  officially  admit 
that  stampede.  He  added  a  few  dozen  corpses  to 
his  disciplinary  "graveyards,"  "  pour  encourager  les 
autres."  Panic  may  attack  even  the  best  army. 

Is  it  panic  now  swelling  on  the  breeze  of  this 
roaring  fight  ?  Fast  and  far  his  hastily  summoned 
messengers  ride.  To  add  a  crowning  disaster  to 
the  confusion  of  the  early  morning  death  grapple, 
the  sun  does  not  touch  the  meridian  before  a  bleed 
ing  aide  brings  back  McPherson's  riderless  horse. 
Where  is  the  general  ?  Alas,  where  ? 

Dashing  far  ahead  of  his  staff  and  orderlies,  tear 
ing  from  wood  to  wood,  to  close  in  the  fatal  gap 
and  reface  his  lines — a  volley  from  a  squad  of 
Hood's  pickets  drops  the  great  corps  commander, 
McPherson,  a  mangled  corpse,  in  the  forest.  No 
such  individual  loss  to  either  army  has  happened 
since  Stonewall  Jackson's  untimely  end  at  Chancel- 
lorsville. 

His  rifled  body  is  soon  recovered.  With  super 
human  efforts  it  is  borne  to  the  house  in  the  clear 
ing  and  laid  at  General  Sherman's  feet. 

Lightning  flashes  of  wit  traverse  Sherman's  brain. 
Every  rebel  straggler  is  instantly  searched  as  he  is 
swept  in.  The  invaluable  private  papers  of  General 
McPherson,  the  secret  orders,  and  campaign  plans 
are  found  in  the  haversack  of  one  of  the  captured 
skirmishers.  These,  at  least,  are  safe. 


LAGUNITAS.  263 

With  this  blow,  comes  the  news  of  the  Seven 
teenth  Corps  being  thrown  back,  far  out  of  its  place, 
by  the  wild  rush  of  Hood's  braves.  All  goes  wrong. 
The  day  is  lost. 

Will  it  be  a  Bull  Run  ? 

No  !  The  impetuous  Logan  tears  along  his  lines. 
"  Black  Jack's  "  swarthy  face  brings  wild  cheers 
from  the  men,  who  throw  themselves  madly  on  the 
attacking  lines,  seeking  vengeance.  The  Fifteenth 
Corps'  rifles  are  sounding  shotted  requiem  salvos  for 
their  lost  leader.  The  Seventeenth  holds  on  and 
connects.  The  Sixteenth  Corps,  struck  heavily  in 
flank  by  the  victorious  Confederates,  faces  into  line 
of  battle  to  the  left.  It  grimly  holds  on,  and  pours 
in  its  leaden  hail.  Smith's  left  flank  doubled  back, 
joining  Leggett,  completes  the  reformed  line.  From 
high  noon  till  the  darkness  of  the  awful  night,  a 
general  conflict  rages  along  the  whole  front.  War 
in  its  grim  horror. 

Sherman,  casting  a  wistful  glance  on  the  body  of 
McPherson,  stands  alert.  He  is  as  bristling  as  a 
wild  boar  at  bay.  Sherman  at  his  best. 

Is  this  their  worst  ?  No,  for  at  four  in  the  after 
noon,  a  terrific  sally  from  Atlanta  throws  the  very 
flower  of  the  assailants  on  the  bloody  knoll,  ever 
more  to  be  known  as  "  Leggett's  Hill."  There  is 
madness  and  demoniac  fury  in  the  way  those  gray 
columns  struggle  for  that  ridge. 

In  vain  does  Hood  send  out  his  bravest  stormers 
to  crown  the  wished-for  position  of  Leggett. 

Sherman  is  as  sure  of  Atlanta  now,  as  if  his 
eagles  towered  over  its  domes.  Drawing  to  the  left 
the  corps  of  Wood,  massing  Schofield  with  twenty 


264  LAGUNITAS. 

heavy  guns  playing  on  Hood's  charging  columns, 
Sherman  throws  Wood,  backed  by  John  A.  Logan's 
victorious  veterans,  on  the  great  body  of  the  reel 
ing  assailants.  The  final  blow  has  met  its  stone 
wall,  in  the  lines  of  Leggett.  The  blue  takes  up 
the  offensive,  with  wild  cheers  of  triumph.  They 
reach  "  Uncle  Billy's  "  ears. 

Some  decisive  stroke  must  cut  the  tangle  of  the 
involved  forces.  When  Hood  sees  that  his  devoted 
troops  have  not  totally  crushed  the  Union  left, 
when  his  columns  reel  back  from  Leggett's  Hill, 
mere  fragments,  he  knows  that  even  his  dauntless 
men  cannot  be  asked  to  try  again  that  fearful 
quest.  It  is  checkmate  ! 

But  Wheeler  is  still  careering  in  destruction 
around  Sherman's  rear  parks,  and  ravaging  his  sup 
plies.  Hood  persists  in  his  desperate  design  to 
pierce  the  Union  lines  somewhere.  He  throws  away 
his  last  chance  of  keeping  an  army  together.  His 
fiery  valor  bade  him  defend  Atlanta  from  the  out 
side.  He  now  sends  a  last  thunderbolt  crashing  on 
the  Decatur  road. 

During  the  day  Valois'  regiment  has  been  thrown 
in  here  and  there.  The  stern  colonel  gazes  with 
pride  on  the  seasoned  fighters  at  their  grim  work. 

But  it  is  after  four  when  Colonel  Valois  is  ordered 
to  mass  his  regiment,  followed  by  the  last  reserve, 
and  lead  it  to  the  front  in  the  supreme  effort  of 
this  awful  day.  His  enemy  in  front  is  a  Union  bat 
tery,  which  has  been  a  flail  to  the  Southern  army. 

In  dozens  of  encounters  the  four  heavy  twenty- 
pound  Parrotts  of  De  Gress  have  been  an  object  of 
the  maddest  attack.  Superbly  handled,  in  the  best 


LAGUNITAS.  265 

equipment,  its  high  power,  long  range,  and  dashing 
energy  have  given  to  this  battery  the  rank  in  the 
West,  which  John  Pelham's  light  artillery  gained 
under  Lee's  eyes  in  Virginia.  The  pride  of  Sher 
man's  artillery  is  the  famous  battery  of  De  Gress. 
To-day  it  has  been  dealing  out  death  incessantly,  at 
half  musket-range.  It  has  swept  rank  on  rank  of 
the  foes  away.  Now,  with  the  frenzy  of  despair, 
General  Hood  sends  a  forlorn  column  to  pierce  the 
Union  lines,  carry  the  road,  and  take  those  renowned 
guns.  A  lull  betokens  the  last  rush. 

Riding  to  the  front,  Colonel  Valois  reins  up  be 
side  Major  Peyton.  There  is  only  time  for  a  few 
last  directions.  A  smile  which  haunts  Peyton  for 
many  a  long  day,  flashes  on  Maxime  Valois'  stern 
lips.  He  dashes  on,  waving  his  sword,  and  cries  in 
his  ringing  voice, 

"Come  on,  boys,  for  Louisiana  !  " 

Springing  like  panthers  into  the  open,  the  closed 
ranks  bound  toward  the  fated  guns  at  a  dead  run. 
Ha!  There  was  a  crashing  salvo.  Now,  it  is  load 
and  fire  at  will.  Right  and  left,  fire  pours  in  on  the 
guns,  whose  red  flashes  singe  the  very  faces  of  the 
assailants.  Peyton's  quick  eye  sees  victory  waver 
ing.  Dashing  towards  the  guns  he  cheers  his  men. 
As  he  nears  the  battery  the  Louisiana  color-bearer 
falls  dead.  Henry  Peyton  seizes  the  Pelican  flag, 
and  dashes  on  over  friends,  dead  and  dying,  as  his 
frightened  steed  races  into  the  battery. 

There,  every  horse  is  down.  The  guns  are  now 
silent.  A  knot  of  men,  with  clubbed  rammers, 
bayonet  thrusts,  and  quick  revolver  shots,  fight  for 
the  smoking  cannon.  A  cheer  goes  up.  De  Gress's 


266  LAGUNITAS. 

guns  are  taken.  Peyton  turns  his  head  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  Colonel  Valois.  Grasping  the  star- 
spangled  guidon  of  the  battery  with  his  bridle  hand, 
Valois  cuts  down  its  bearer. 

A  wild  yell  rises  as  a  dozen  rebel  bayonets  are 
plunged  into  a  defiant  fugitive,  for  he  has  levelled 
his  musket  point-blank  and  shot  Valois  through  the 
heart. 

The  leader's  frightened  charger  bounds  madly 
to  the  front,  and  the  Louisiana  colonel  falls  heavily 
to  the  ground. 

Clasped  in  his  clenched  hands,  the  silken  folds 
of  the  captured  battery  flag  are  dyed  with  his  blood. 
A  dozen  willing  arms  raise  the  body,  bearing  it  to 
one  side,  for  the  major,  mindful  of  the  precious 
moments,  yells  to  "  swing  the  guns  and  pass  the 
caissons."  In  a  minute,  the  heavy  Parrotts  of  De 
Gress  are  pouring  their  shrapnel  into  the  faces  of 
the  Union  troops,  who  are,  three  hundred  yards 
away,  forming  for  a  rush  to  recapture  them. 

As  the  cannon  roar  their  defiance  to  the  men  who 
hold  them  dear,  Peyton  bends  over  Maxime  Valois. 
The  heart  is  stilled  forever.  With  his  stiffening 
fingers  clutching  his  last  trophy,  the  "  Stars  and 
Stripes,"  there  is  the  light  of  another  world  shining 
on  the  face  of  the  dead  soldier  of  the  Southern  Cross. 
Before  sending  his  body  to  the  rear,  Henry  Peyton 
draws  from  Valois'  breast  a  packet  of  letters.  It  is 
the  last  news  from  the  loved  wife  he  has  rejoined 
across  the  shadowy  river.  United  in  death.  Child 
ish  Isabel  is  indeed  alone  in  the  world.  A  rain  of 
shrieking  projectiles  and  bursting  shells  tells  of  the 
coming  counter-charge. 


LAGUNITAS.  267 

Drawing  back  the  guns  by  hand  to  a  cover  for  the 
infantry,  and  rattling  the  caissons  over  a  ridge  to 
screen  the  ammunition  boxes,  the  shattered  rebel 
ranks  send  volleys  into  the  faces  of  the  lines  of  Scho- 
field,  now  coming  on  at  a  run. 

The  captured  Parrotts  ring  and  scream.  One 
over-heated  gun  of  the  battery  bursts,  adding  its 
horrors  to  the  struggle.  Logan's  men  are  leap 
ing  over  the  lines  to  right  and  left,  bayoneting 
the  gunners.  The  Louisianians  give  way  and  drift 
to  the  rear.  The  evening  shadows  drop  over  crest, 
wood,  and  vale.  When  the  first  stars  are  in  the  skies 
Hood's  shattered  columns  stream  back  into  Atlanta. 
The  three  guns  of  De  Gress  have  changed  hands 
again.  Even  the  bursted  piece  falls  once  more 
under  the  control  of  the  despairing  Union  artillery 
captain.  He  has  left  him  neither  men,  horses,  fit 
tings,  nor  harness  available — only  three  dismantled 
guns  and  the  wreck  of  his  fourth  piece.  But  they 
are  back  again  !  Sherman's  men  with  wildest  shouts 
crowd  the  field.  They  drive  the  broken  remnants  of 
the  proud  morning  array  under  the  guns  of  the  last 
lines  of  the  doomed  city.  Dare-devil  Hood  has 
failed.  The  desperate  dash  has  cost  ten  thousand 
priceless  men.  The  brief  command  of  the  Texan 
fighter  has  wrecked  the  invaluable  army  of  which 
Joe  Johnston  was  so  mindful. 

McPherson,  who  joined  the  subtlety  of  Stonewall 
to  the  superb  bearing  of  Sidney  Johnston,  a  hero 
born,  a  warrior,  and  great  captain  to  be,  lies  under 
the  stars  in  the  silent  chambers  of  the  Howard 
House. 

General   Sherman,  gazing   on  his  noble  features, 


268  LAGUNITAS. 

calm  in  death,  silently  mourns  the  man  who  was  his 
right  hand.  Thomas,  Schofield,  Howard,  Logan, 
and  Slocum  stand  beside  the  dead  general.  They 
bewail  the  priceless  sacrifice  of  Peachtree  Creek. 

In  the  doomed  city  of  Atlanta,  there  is  gloom 
and  sadness.  With  the  fragments  of  the  regiment 
which  adored  him,  a  shattered  guard  of  honor, 
watching  over  him  with  yet  loaded  guns,  in  charge 
of  the  officers  headed  by  Major  Peyton,  the  body  of 
Maxime  Valois  rests  within  the  Southern  lines. 

For  the  dear  land  of  his  birth  he  had  abandoned 
the  fair  land  of  his  choice.  With  the  captured  ban 
ner  of  his  country  in  his  hand,  he  died  in  the  hour 
of  a  great  personal  triumph,  "  under  the  Stars  and 
Bars/'  Game  to  the  last. 

High-souled  and  devoted,  the  son  of  Louisiana 
never  failed  the  call  of  his  kinsmen.  He  carried  the 
purest  principles  to  the  altar  of  Secession. 

Watching  by  the  shell  from  which  the  dauntless 
spirit  had  fled  in  battle  and  in  storm,  Henry  Peyton 
feels  bitterly  that  the  fate  of  Atlanta  is  sealed.  He 
knows  the  crushing  of  their  weak  lines  will  follow. 
He  can  picture  Sherman's  heavy  columns  taking 
city  after  city,  and  marching  toward  the  blue  sea. 

The  end  is  approaching.  A  gloomier  darkness 
than  the  night  of  the  last  battle  broods  over  the 
Virginian.  With  pious  reverence,  he  hastens  to 
arrange  the  few  personal  matters  of  his  chief.  He 
knows  not  the  morrow.  The  active  duties  of  com 
mand  will  soon  take  up  all  his  time.  He  must  keep 
the  beloved  regiment  together. 

For,  of  the  two  or  three  companies  left  of  a  regi 
ment  "  whose  bayonets  were  once  a  thousand," 


LAGUNITAS.  269 

Henry  Peyton  is  the  colonel  now.  A  "  barren 
honor,"  yet  inexpressibly  dear  to  him. 

In  the  face  of  the  enemy,  within  the  lines  held 
hard  by  the  reorganizing  fragments  of  yesterday's 
host,  the  survivors  bury  the  brave  leader  who  rode 
so  long  at  their  head.  Clad  in  his  faded  gray,  the 
colonel  lies  peacefully  awaiting  the  great  Reveille. 

When  the  sloping  bayonets  of  the  regiment  glitter, 
for  the  last  time,  over  the  ramparts  their  generous 
blood  has  stained  in  fight,  as  the  defeated  troops 
move  away,  many  a  stout  heart  softens  as  they  feel 
they  are  leaving  alone  and  to  the  foe  the  lost  idol 
of  their  rough  worship. 

Major  Peyton  preserves  for  the  fatherless  child 
the  personal  relics  of  his  departed  friend.  Before 
it  is  too  late,  he  despatches  them  to  the  coast,  to 
be  sent  to  Havana,  to  await  Judge  Hardin's  orders 
at  the  bankers'.  The  news  of  the  fate  of  Colonel 
Valois,  and  the  last  wishes  of  the  dead  Confeder 
ate,  are  imparted  in  a  letter  to  Judge  Hardin  by 
Peyton. 

In  the  stern  realities  of  the  last  retreat,  fighting 
and  marching,  after  the  winter  snows  have  whitened 
the  shot-torn  fields  around  Atlanta  ;  sick  of  carnage 
and  the  now  useless  bloodshed,  Colonel  Peyton 
leads  his  mere  detachment  to  the  final  scene  of  the 
North  Carolina  surrender.  Grant's  iron  hand  has 
closed  upon  Petersburg's  weakened  lines.  Sheri 
dan's  invincible  riders,  fresh  from  the  Shenandoah, 
have  shattered  the  steadfast  at  Five  Forks. 

Gloomy  days  have  fallen,  also,  on  the  cause  in  the 
West.  The  despairing  valor  of  the  day  at  Franklin 
and  the  assault  on  Nashville  only  needlessly  add  to 


270  LAGUNITAS. 

the  reputation  for  frantic  bravery  of  the  last  of  the 
magnificent  Western  armies  of  the  Confederacy. 
Everywhere  there  are  signs  of  the  inevitable  end. 
With  even  the  sad  news  of  Appomattox  to  show 
him  that  the  great  cause  is  irretrievably  lost,  there 
are  bitter  tears  in  Henry  Peyton's  eyes  when  he 
sees  the  flags  of  the  army  he  has  served  with,  low 
ered  to  great  Sherman  in  the  last  surrender. 

The  last  order  he  will  ever  give  to  them  turns 
out  for  surrender  the  men  whose  reckless  bravery 
has  gilded  a  "  Lost  Cause  "  with  a  romantic  halo 
of  fadeless  glory.  Peyton  sadly  sheathes  the  sword 
he  took  from  Maxime  Valois'  dead  hands.  South 
ward,  he  takes  his  way.  Virginia  is  now  only  a 
graveyard  and  one  vast  deserted  battle-field.  The 
strangers'  bayonets  are  shining  at  Richmond.  He 
cannot  revisit  the  scenes  of  his  boyhood.  A  crav 
ing  seizes  him  for  new  scenes  and  strange  faces. 
He  yearns  to  blot  out  the  war  from  his  memory. 
He  dreams  of  Mexico,  Cuba,  or  the  towering  Andes 
of  South  Americav  His  heart  is  too  full  to  linger 
near  the  scenes  where  the  red  earth  lies  heaped  over 
his  brethren  of  the  sword.  Back  to  Atlanta  he 
travels,  with  the  returning  fragments  of  the  men 
who  are  now  homeward  bound.  All  is  silent  now. 
From  wood  and  hill  no  rattling  fire  wakes  the  still 
ness  of  these  days.  The  blackened  ruins  and  the 
wide  swath  cut  by  Sherman  tell  him  how  true  was 
the  prediction  that  the  men  of  the  Northwest  would 
"  hew  their  way  to  the  Gulf  with  their  swords." 
He  finds  the  grave  of  Valois,  when  dismantled  and 
crippled  Atlanta  receives  him  again.  Standing 
there,  alone,  the  pageantry  of  war  has  rolled  away. 


LAGUNITAS.  2?  I 

The  battle-fields  are  covered  with  wild  roses.  The 
birds  nest  in  the  woods  where  Death  once  reigned 
supreme.  High  in  the  air  over  Atlanta  the  flag  of 
the  country  waves,  on  the  garrison  parade,  with  not 
a  single  star  erased. 

On  his  way  to  a  self-appointed  exile,  the  Virgin 
ian  has  seen  the  wasted  fields,  blackened  ruins,  and 
idle  disheartened  communities  of  the  conquered, 
families  brought  to  misery,  and  the  young  arms- 
bearing  generation  blotted  out.  Hut  and  manor- 
house  have  been  licked  up  by  the  red  torch  of  war. 
The  hollow-eyed  women,  suffering  children,  and 
dazed,  improvident  negroes,  wander  around  aim 
lessly.  Bridges,  mills  and  factories  in  ruins  tell  of 
the  stranger's  torch,  and  the  crashing  work  of  the 
artillery.  Tall,  smokeless  chimneys  point  skywards 
as  monuments  of  desolation. 

Bov/ed  in  defeat,  their  strongholds  are  yet  occu 
pied  by  the  blue-coated  victors.  All  that  is  left  of 
the  Southern  communities  lingers  in  ruined  homes 
and  idle  marts.  They  now  are  counting  the  cost  of 
attempted  secession,  in  the  gloom  of  despair. 

The  land  is  one  vast  graveyard.  The  women 
who  mourn  husbands  and  lovers  stray  over  fields 
of  strife,  and  wonder  where  the  loved  one  sleeps. 
Friend  and  foe,  "  in  one  red  burial  blent,"  are  lying 
down  in  the  unbroken  truce  of  death. 

Atlanta's  struggle  against  the  restless  Sherman 
has  been  only  wasted  valor,  a  bootless  sacrifice. 
Her  terrific  sallies,  lightning  counter-thrusts,  and 
final  struggles  with  the  after-occupation,  can  be 
traced  in  the  general  desolation,  by  every  step  of 
the  horrible  art  of  war. 


2/2  LAGUNITAS. 

Here,  by  the  grave  of  his  intrepid  comrade, 
Henry  Peyton  reviews  the  past  four  years.  His 
scars  and  wasted  frame  tell  him  of  many  a  deadly 
fray,  and  the  dangers  of  the  insane  fight  for  State 
rights. 

The  first  proud  days  of  the  war  return.  Hopes 
that  have  failed  long  since  are  remembered.  The 
levy  and  march  to  the  front,  the  thousand  watch- 
fires  glittering  around  the  unbroken  hosts,  whose 
silken-bordered  banners  tell  of  the  matchless  de 
votion  of  the  women  clinging  blindly  to  the  cause. 

Peyton  thinks  now  of  the  loved  and  lost  who 
bore  those  flags,  to-day  furled  forever,  to  the  front, 
at  Bull  Run,  Shiloh,  the  Seven  Days,  Groveton, 
Fredericksburg,  Chancellorsville,  Chickamauga,  and 
Spottsylvania. 

The  foreign  friends  in  Europe,  the  daring  rovers 
of  the  sea  who  carried  the  Stars  and  Bars  from  off 
New  York  to  Singapore  and  far  Behring  Straits. 
What  peerless  leaders.  Such  deep,  sagacious  states 
men.  The  treasures  of  the  rich  South,  the  wealth 
of  King  Cotton,  all  wasted  uselessly.  A  popular 
devotion,  which  deeply  touched  the  magnanimous 
Grant  in  the  supreme  hour  of  victory,  has  been 
lavished  on  the  altar  of  the  Confederacy  where 
Davis,  Lee,  and  Jackson  were  enthroned.  Fallen 
gods  now,  but  still  majestic  and  yet  revered. 

Peyton  thinks  with  an  almost  breaking  heart  of 
all  these  sacrifices  for  the  Lost  Cause.  By  his 
friend's  grave  he  feels  that  an  awful  price  has  been 
paid  for  the  glories  of  the  short-lived  Confederacy. 

The  noble-hearted  Virginian  dares  not  hope  that 
there  may  yet  be  found  golden  bands  of  brother- 


LAGUNITAS.  2/3 

hood  to  knit  together  the  children  of  the  men  who 
fought  under  gray  and  blue.  Frankly  acknowledg 
ing  the  injustice  of  the  early  scorn  of  the  Northern 
foe,  he  knows,  from  glances  cast  backward  over  the 
storied  fields,  the  vigor  of  the  North  was  under-esti 
mated.  The  men  of  Donelson,  Antietam,  Stone 
River,  Vicksburg,  awful  Gettysburg,  of  Winchester, 
and  Five  Forks,  are  as  true  and  tried  as  ever  swung 
a  soldier's  blade. 

He  has  seen  the  country's  flag  of  stars  stream 
out  bravely  against  the  tide  of  defeat.  If  Ameri 
can  valor  needs  a  champion  the  men  who  saw  the 
"  Yankees  "  at  Seven  Pines,  Gaines  Mill,  Marye's 
Heights,  and  holding  in  fire  and  flame  the  batteries 
of  Corinth  and  Knoxville,  will  swear  the  embittered 
foes  were  worthy  of  each  other. 

The  defeated  Confederate  veteran,  as  he  plucks  a 
rose  from  the  grass  growing  over  the  gallant  Valois, 
bitterly  remembers  the  useless  sacrifices  of  the 
whole  Southern  army  to  the  "Virginia  policy."  A 
son  of  the  "  old  State  "  himself,  he  can  feel  now,  in 
the  sorrow  and  silence  of  defeat,  that  the  early  tri 
umphs  of  the  war  were  wasted.  The  great  warlike 
generation  was  frittered  away  on  the  Potomac. 

Devoted  to  Lee,  he  still  mourns  the  lost  months  of 
the  fall  of  '61,  when,  flushed  with  triumph,  the  Con 
federates  could  have  entered  Washington.  Then 
Maryland  would  have  risen  "  en  masse."  Foreign 
lands  would  have  been  won  over.  An  aggressive 
policy  even  in  1862,  after  the  Peninsula,  might  have 
changed  the  final  result.  The  dead  Californian's 
regrets  for  the  abandonment  of  all  effort  in  the 
Pacific,  the  cutting-off  and  uselessness  of  the  great 
18 


2/4  LAGUNITAS. 

trans-Mississippi  region,  all  return  to  him  in  vain 
sorrow. 

By  Maxime  Valois'  grave,  Peyton  wonders  if  the 
battle-consecrated  blood  of  the  sons  has  washed 
away  the  sins  of  the  fathers.  He  knows  not  of  the 
brighter  days,  when  the  past  shall  seem  a  vision  of 
romance.  When  our  country  will  smile  in  peace 
and  brotherhood,  from  ocean  to  ocean.  Sadly  he 
uncovers  his  head.  He  leaves  Maxime  Valois  lying 
in  the  proud  silence  of  the  soldier's  grave — "  dead 
on  the  field  of  honor." 

To  New  Orleans  Colonel  Peyton  repairs.  On 
making  search,  he  finds  that  Judge  Valois  has  not 
survived  the  collapse  of  the  Confederacy.  His  only 
son  is  abroad,  in  Paris.  The  abandoned  plantations 
and  family  property  are  under  the  usual  load  of 
debt,  taxes,  and  all  the  legal  confusion  of  a  change 
of  rulers. 

Peyton  thanks  the  dead  soldier  in  his  heart  for 
the  considerable  legacy  of  his  unused  balances.  He 
is  placed  beyond  immediate  necessity.  He  leaves 
the  land  where  the  Southern  Cross  met  defeat. 
He  wishes  to  wander  over  Cuba,  Mexico,  and  to 
ward  the  West.  At  Havana,  he  finds  that  the 
documents  and  articles  forwarded  by  the  agents  to 
Judge  Hardin  have  been  duly  sent  though  never 
acknowledged. 

The  letters  taken  from  Colonel  Valois'  body  he 
seals  in  a  packet.  He  trusts  that  fate  may  lead  him 
some  day  westward.  They  are  too  precious  to  risk. 
He  may  some  day  tell  the  little  lady  of  Lagunitas, 
of  the  gallant  father  whose  thoughts,  before  his  last 
battle,  were  only  for  the  beloved  "  little  one."  She 


LAGUNITAS.  2/5 

is  confided,  as  a  trust,  from  the  dying  to  Judge 
Hardin.  She  is  surely  safe  in  the  sheltering  care  of 
Valois'  oldest  friend.  A  "  Southern  gentleman." 

Peyton  for  years  can  bring  back  the  tender 
solemnity  of  Maxime  Valois'  face,  as  he  reads  his 
charge  to  Hardin. 

"  And  may  God  deal  with  you  and  yours,  as  you 
deal  with  me  and  mine." 

The  devoted  father's  appeal  would  touch  a  heart 
of  stone. 

The  folly  of  not  beginning  active  war  in  the  West ; 
the  madness  of  not  seizing  California  at  the  outset ; 
the  rich  prizes  of  the  Pacific  left  ungathered,  for 
has  not  Semmes  almost  driven  Yankee  ships  from 
the  sea  with  the  Alabama,  and  does  not  Waddell, 
with  the  cockle-shell  Shenandoah,  burn  and  de 
stroy  the  entire  Pacific  whaling  fleet  ?  The  free 
booter  sails  half  around  the  world,  unchallenged, 
after  the  war.  Oh,  coward  Knights  of  the  Golden 
Circle !  Fools,  and  blind,  to  let  California  slip  from 
your  grasp  ! 

Maxime  Valois  was  right.  Virginian  rule  ruined 
the  Confederacy.  Too  late,  too  late  ! 

Had  Sidney  Johnston  lived  ;  had  Robert  E.  Lee 
been  willing  to  leave  sacred  Virginia  uncovered  for 
a  fortnight  in  the  days  before  he  marshalled  the 
greatest  army  the  Southerners  ever  paraded,  and 
invaded  the  North  boldly,  a  peace  would  have  re 
sulted. 

Peyton  thinks  bitterly  of  the  irreparable  loss  of 
Sidney  Johnston.  He  recalls  the  death  of  peer 
less  Jackson.  Jackson,  always  aggressive,  active, 
eager  to  reach  for  the  enemy,  and  ever  successful. 


276  LAGUNITAS. 

Wasted  months  when  the  prestige  was  with  the 
South,  the  fixed  determination  of  Lee  to  keep  the 
war  in  Virginia,  and  Davis's  deadly  jealousy  of  any 
leading  minds,  seem  to  have  lost  the  brightest 
chances  of  a  glorious  success. 

Peyton  condemns  the  military  court  of  Davis  and 
the  intrenched  pageantry  of  Lee's  idle  forces.  The 
other  armies  of  the  Confederacy  fought,  half  sup 
plied,  giving  up  all  to  hold  the  Virginia  lines.  He 
cannot  yet  realize  that  either  Sherman  or  Grant 
might  have  baffled  Sidney  Johnston  had  he  lived. 
Lee  was  self-conscious  of  his  weakness  in  invasion. 
He  will  not  own  that  Philip  Sheridan's  knightly 
sword  might  have  reached  the  crest  of  the  uncon- 
quered  Stonewall  Jackson. 

Vain  regret,  shadowy  dreams,  and  sad  imaginings 
fill  Colonel  Peyton's  mind.  The  thrilling  struggles 
of  the  Army  of  the  West,  its  fruitless  victories,  and 
unrewarded  heroism  make  him  proud  of  its  heroes. 
Had  another  policy  ruled  the  Confederate  military 
cabinet,  success  was  certain.  But  he  is  now  leaving 
his  friend's  grave. 

The  birds  are  singing  in  the  forest.  As  the  sun 
lights  up  the  dark  woods  where  McPherson  died, 
into  Henry  Peyton's  war-tried  soul  enters  the  peace 
which  broods  over  field  and  incense-breathing  trees. 
Far  in  the  East,  the  suns  of  future  years  may  bring 
happier  days,  when  the  war  wounds  are  healed. 
The  brothers  of  the  Union  may  find  a  nobler  way 
to  reach  each  other's  hearts  than  ball  or  bayonet. 
But  he  cannot  see  these  gleams  of  hope. 


BOOK    IV. 

A    LOST    HEIRESS. — MILLIONS   AT 
STAKE. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

MOUNT  DAVIDSON'S  MAGIC  MILLIONS. — A  CALIFOR 
NIA   PLUTOCRACY. — THE    PRICE    OF  A    CRIME. 

PHILIP  HARDIN'S  library  in  San  Francisco  is  a 
place  for  quiet  labors.  A  spider's  parlor.  Sep 
tember,  1864,  hides  the  enchanted  interior  with 
deeper  shades  from  the  idle  sight-seer. 

Since  the  stirring  days  of  1861,  after  the  consecu 
tive  failures  of  plot,  political  scheme,  and  plan  of 
attack,  the  mysterious  "  chief  of  the  Golden  Circle  " 
has  withdrawn  from  public  practice.  A  marked 
and  dangerous  man. 

It  would  be  an  insult  to  the  gallant  dead  whose 
blood  watered  the  fields  of  the  South,  for  Philip 
Hardin  to  take  the  "  iron-clad  oath  "  required  now 
of  practitioners. 

Respected  for  his  abilities,  feared  by  his  adver 
saries,  shunned  for  his  pro-secession  views,  Philip 
Hardin  walks  alone.  No  overt  act  can  be  fastened 
on  him,  Otherwise,  instead  of  gazing  on  Alcatraz 


2/8  LAGUNITAS. 

Island  from  his  mansion  windows,  he  might  be  be 
hind  those  frowning  walls,  where  the  1 5-inch  Co- 
lumbiads  spread  their  radial  lines  of  fire,  to  cross 
those  of  the  works  of  Black  Point,  Fort  Point,  and 
Point  Blunt.  Many  more  innocent  prisoners  toil 
there.  He  does  not  wish  to  swell  their  number. 
Philip  Hardin  dares  not  take  that  oath  in  open 
court.  His  pride  prevents,  but,  even  were  he  to 
offer  it,  the  mockery  would  be  too  patent. 

A  happy  excuse  prevents  his  humiliation.  Trus 
tee  of  the  vast  estate  of  Lagunitas,  he  has  also  his 
own  affairs  to  direct.  It  is  a  dignified  retirement. 

Another  great  passion  fills  his  later  days.  Since 
the  wandering  Comstock  and  Curry,  proverbially 
unfortunate  discoverers,  like  Marshall,  pointed  to 
hundreds  of  millions  for  the  "  silver  kings,"  along 
Mount  Davidson's  stony  breast,  he  gambles  daily. 
The  stock  board  is  his  play-room. 

The  mining  stock  exchange  gives  his  maturer 
years  the  wilder  excitements  of  the  old  El  Dorado. 

Washoe,  Nevada  Territory,  or  the  State  of  Ne 
vada,  the  new  "  Silverado  "  drives  all  men  crazy. 
A  city  shines  now  along  the  breast  of  the  Storey 
County  peaks,  nine  thousand  feet  above  the  sea. 
The  dulness  of  California's  evolution  is  broken  by 
the  rush  to  Washoe.  Already  the  hardy  prospec 
tors  spread  out  in  that  great  hunt  for  treasure 
which  will  bring  Colorado,  Idaho,  and  Montana, 
crowned  aspirants,  bearing  gifts  of  gold  and  silver, 
to  the  gates  of  the  Union.  The  whole  West  is  a 
land  of  hidden  treasures. 

Speculation's  mad  fever  seized  on  Hardin  from 
the  days  of  1860.  Shares,  stocks,  operations, 


LAGUNITAS.  279 

schemes,  all  the  wild  devices  of  hazard,  fill  up  his 
days  with  exciting  successes  and  damning  failures. 

His  name,  prestige,  and  credit,  carry  him  to  the 
front.  As  in  the  early  days,  his  cool  brain  and 
nerve  mark  him  as  a  desperate  gamester.  But  his 
stakes  are  now  gigantic. 

Secure  in  his  mansion  house,  with  private  wires 
in  his  study,  he  operates  through  many  brokers  and 
agents.  His  interrupted  law  business  is  transferred 
to  less  prominent  Southern  advocates. 

Philip  Hardin's  fine  hand  is  everywhere.  Relia 
ble  dependants,  old  prospecting  friends  and  clients, 
keep  him  informed  by  private  cipher  of  every  chang 
ing  turn  of  the  brilliant  Virginia  City  kaleidoscope. 

Hardin  gambles  for  pleasure,  for  vanity,  and  for 
excitement.  Led  on  by  his  desire  to  stand  out 
from  the  mass  of  men,  he  throws  his  fortune,  mixed 
with  the  funds  of  Lagunitas,  into  the  maelstrom  of 
California  Street.  Success  and  defeat  alternate. 

It  is  a  transition  time.  While  war  rages  in  the 
East,  the  California  merchant  kings  are  doubling 
fortunes  in  the  cowardly  money  piracy  known  as 
California's  secession.  The  "  specific  contract  act  " 
is  the  real  repudiation  of  the  government's  lawful 
money.  This  stab  in  the  back  is  given  to  the 
struggling  Union  by  the  well-fed  freedom  shriekers 
of  the  Union  League.  They  howl,  in  public,  over 
their  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the  land. 

The  future  railroad  kings  of  the  Pacific,  Stanford, 
Hopkins,  Crocker,  Huntington,  Colton,  and  their 
allies,  are  grasping  the  gigantic  benefits  flowing 
from  the  Pacific  Railroad,  recommended  by  them 
selves  as  a  war  measure.  Heroes. 


280  LAGUNITAS. 

The  yet  uncrowned  bonanza  kings  are  men  of  ob. 
scure  employment,  or  salaried  miners  working  for 
wages  which  would  not  in  a  month  pay  their  petty 
cash  of  a  day  in  a  few  years. 

Quiet  Jim  Flood,  easy  O'Brien,  sly  Jones,  sturdy 
Mackay,  and  that  guileless  innocent,  "  Jim  Fair," 
are  toiling  miners  or  "  business  men."  Their  pe 
culiar  talents  are  hidden  by  the  obscurity  of  hum 
drum,  honest  labor. 

Hands  soon  to  sway  the  financial  sceptre,  either 
mix  the  dulcet  cocktail,  swing  the  pick,  or  else 
light  with  the  miner's  candle  the  Aladdin  caves  to 
which  they  grope  and  burrow  in  daily  danger,  deep 
hidden  from  public  view.  These  "silver  kings" 
are  only  in  embryo. 

These  two  groups  of  remarkable  men,  the  future 
railroad  princes,  and  the  budding  bonanza  kings, 
represent  cunning,  daring,  energy,  fortitude,  and 
the  remarkable  powers  of  transition  of  the  Western 
resident. 

The  future  land  barons  are  as  yet  merely  sly, 
waiting  schemers.  They  are  trusting  to  compound 
interest,  rotten  officials,  and  neglected  laws  to  get 
possession  of  ducal  domains.  The  bankers,  merchant 
princes,  and  stock  operators  are  writing  their  names 
fast  in  California's  strange  "  Libro  d'oro."  All  is 
restlessness.  All  is  a  mere  waiting  for  the  turbid 
floods  of  seething  human  life  to  settle  down.  In 
the  newer  discoveries  of  Nevada,  in  the  suspense 
of  the  war,  the  railroads  are  yet  only  half  finished, 
croaked  at  mournfully  by  the  befogged  Solons  of 
the  press.  All  is  transition. 

It   is  only  when   the    first  generation  of  children 


LAGUNITAS.  28 1 

born  in  California  will  reach  maturity  in  the  'eighties; 
only  when  the  tide  of  carefully  planned  migration 
from  North  and  South,  after  the  war,  reaches  the 
West,  that  life  becomes  regular.  Only  when  the 
railways  make  the  new  State  a  world's  thorough 
fare,  and  the  slavery  stain  is  washed  from  our  flag, 
that  civilization  plants  the  foundations  of  her  solid 
temples  along  the  Pacific. 

There  is  no  crystallization  until  the  generation  of 
mere  adventurers  begin  to  drop  into  graves  on  hill 
side  and  by  the  sea.  The  first  gold-seekers  must 
pass  out  from  active  affairs  before  the  real  State  is 
honestly  builded  up. 

No  man,  not  even  Philip  Hardin,  could  foresee, 
with  the  undecided  problems  of  1860,  what  would 
be  the  status  of  California  in  ten  years,  as  to  law, 
finance,  commerce,  or  morals. 

A  sudden  start  might  take  the  mass  of  the  people 
to  a  new  Frazer  River  or  another  Australia.  They 
might  rush  to  the  wilds  of  some  frontier  treasury 
of  nature,  now  unknown. 

Even  Philip  Hardin  dared  not  dream  that  hum 
ble  bar-keepers  would  blossom  out  into  great  bank 
presidents,  that  signatures,  once  potent  only  on 
the  saloon  "  slate,"  would  be  smiled  on  by  "  friend 
Rothschild  "  and  "  brother  Baring."  The  "  light 
ning  changes  "  of  the  burlesque  social  life  of  West 
ern  America  begin  to  appear.  It  is  a  wild  dream 
that  the  hands  now  toiling  with  the  pick  or  carrying 
the  miner's  tin  dinner-pail,  would  close  in  friend 
ship  on  the  aristocratic  palm  of  H.  R.  H.  Albert 
Edward,  the  Prince  of  Wales.  The  "  chamber 
maid's  own"  romances  would  not  dare  to  predict 


282  LAGUNTTAS. 

that  ladies  bred  to  the  broom  and  tub  or  the  useful 
omnipotent  "  fry  pan,"  would  smile  on  duchesses, 
crony  with  princesses,  or  regulate  their  visiting  lists 
by  the  "  Almanach  de  Gotha." 

Their  great  magician  is  Gold.  In  power,  in  pleas 
ing  witchery  of  potent  influence  ;  insidious  flattery 
of  pleasure  ;  in  remorseless  persecution  of  the  pen 
niless,  all  wonders  are  its  work.  Ariel,  Mephisto, 
Moloch,  thou,  Gold  !  King  Gold  !  and  thy  brother, 
Silver ! 

While  Philip  Hardin  speculated  from  his  lofty 
eyrie,  the  San  Francisco  hills  are  now  covered  with 
the  unsubstantial  palaces  of  the  first  successful  resi 
dents.  He  dared  not  dream  that  the  redwood 
boxes  called  mansions,  in  which  the  wealthy  lived 
in  the  days  of  '60,  would  give  way  to  the  lordly 
castles  of  "  Nob  Hill." 

These  castles,  whether  of  railroad  tyrant,  bonanza 
baron,  or  banking  conspirator,  were  yet  castles  in 
the  air. 

Perched  in  lofty  isolation  now,  they  architec 
turally  dominate  the  meaner  huts  below.  Vulgar 
monuments  of  a  social  upheaval  which  beggars  the 
old  stories  of  fairy  changelings,  of  Sancho  Panza,  of 
"Barney  the  Baron,"  or  "  Monte  Cristo." 

In  the  days  of  '60,  Philip  Hardin  is  too  busy 
with  plot  and  scheme,  with  daily  plunging,  and 
dreaming  over  the  fate  of  Lagunitas,  to  notice  the 
social  elevation  of  the  more  aspiring  male  and 
female  adventurers.  The  rising  tide  of  wealth 
grows.  Judicious  use  of  early  gained  riches,  trips 
to  Europe,  furtive  lessons,  the  necessities  of  the 
changed  station,  and  an  unlimited  cheek  and 


LAGUNITAS.  283 

astounding  adaptability  change  the  lucky  men  and 
women  whom  fortune's  dower  has  ennobled.  They 
are  all  now  "  howling  swells." 

Some  never  reach  as  high  as  the  "  Monarchs  of 
Mount  Davidson,"  who  were  pretty  high  up  at  the 
start,  nearly  a  mile  and  .a  half.  In  many  cases, 
King  Midas's  Court  shows  very  fairly  scattered  pro 
motions. 

Society's  shoddy  geometry  gives  a  short-cut  for 
"my  lady's  maid"  to  become  "my  lady."  She 
surely  knows  "how  to  dress."  The  lady  who  enter 
tains  well,  in  some  cases  does  so  with  long  experi 
ence  as  a  successful  professional  cook. 

Some  who  dropped  into  California  with  another 
woman's  husband,  forget,  while  rolling  in  their  car 
riages,  that  they  ever  had  one  of  their  own.  Chil 
dren  with  no  legal  parents  have  not  learned  the 
meaning  of  "  films  nullius."  From  the  bejewelled 
mass  of  vigorous,  keen  upstarts,  now  enriched  by 
stocks,  the  hardy  children  of  the  great  bonanzas, 
rises  the  chorus,  "  Let  the  past  rest.  We  have 
passed  the  gates  of  Gold." 

To  the  "newer  nobility  of  California,"  is  given 
local  golden  patents.  They  cover  modest  paternal 
names  and  many  shady  personal  antecedents. 

In  a  land  without  a  past,  the  suddenly  enriched 
speculators  reign  in  mart  and  parlor.  They  rule 
society  and  the  Exchange.  In  a  great  many  cases, 
a  judicious  rearrangement  of  marriage  proves  that 
the  new-made  millionnaires  value  their  recently  ac 
quired  "  old  wines  "  and  "  ancient  pictures,"  more 
than  their  aging  wives.  They  bring  much  warmth 
of  social  color  into  the  local  breezy  atmosphere  of 


284  LAGUNITAS. 

this  animated  Western  picture,  these  new  arrange 
ments  of  Hymen. 

Hardin,  plunging  into  the  general  madness  of 
stock  speculation,  destined  to  reign  for  twenty 
years,  keeps  his  own  counsel.  He  sneers  not  at  the 
households  queened  ovar  by  the  "  Doubtful  Love 
liness  "  of  the  "  Rearranged  Aristocracy  of  the 
Pacific."  He  has  certain  twinges  when  he  hears  the 
laughing  girl  child  at  play  in  the  bowers  of  his 
park.  While  the  ex-queen  of  the  El  Dorado,  now 
a  marvel  of  womanly  beauty,  gazes  on  that  dancing 
child,  she  cannot  yet  see,  among  the  many  flashing 
gems  loading  her  hands,  the  plain  circlet  of  a  wed 
ding  ring. 

No  deeper  consecration  than  the  red  blood  of  the 
murdered  gambler  ever  sealed  the  lawless  union  of 
the  "  Chief  of  the  Golden  Circle  "  with  the  peerless 
"  Empress  of  Rouge  et  Noir." 

Her  facile  moods,  restrained  passions,  blind  de 
votion,  and  self-acquired  charms  of  education,  keep 
Philip  Hardin  strangely  faithful  to  a  dark  bond. 

Luxury,  in  its  most  insidious  forms,  woos  to 
dreamy  enjoyment  the  not  guileless  Adam  and  Eve 
of  this  hidden  western  Paradise. 

There  is  neither  shame  nor  the  canker  of  regret 
brooding  over  these  "  children  of  knowledge,"  who 
have  tasted  the  clusters  of  the  "  Tree  of  Life." 

Within  and  without,  it  is  the  same.  Philip  Har 
din  is  not  the  only  knave  and  unpunished  murderer 
in  high  place.  His  "  Gulnare  "  is  not  the  only 
lovely  woman  here,  who  bears  unabashed  the  bur 
den  of  a  hideous  past.  A  merit  is  peculiar  to  this 
guilty,  world-defying  pair.  They  seek  no  friends, 


LAGUNITAS.  285 

obtrude  on  no  external  circles,  and  parade  no  lying 
sham  before  local  respectability. 

It  is  not  so  with  others.  The  bench,  the  forum,  the 
highest  places,  the  dazzling  daily  displays  of  rough 
luxury,  are  thronged  by  transformed  "  Nanas"  and 
resolute  climbers  of  the  social  trapeze.  The  shame 
less  motto  flaunts  on  their  free-lance  banners, 
golden-bordered  : 

"  Pour  y  parvenir." 

Philip  Hardin  smiles,  on  the  rare  occasions  when 
he  enters  the  higher  circles  of  "  society,"  to  see  hew 
many  fair  faces  light  up,  in  strange  places,  with  a 
smile  of  recognition.  How  many  rosy  lips  are 
closed  with  taper  fingers,  hinting,  "  Don't  ask  me 
how  I  got  here  ;  I  am  here  !  " 

In  his  heartless  indifference  to  the  general  good, 
he  greets  the  promoted  "  ladies  "  with  grave  cour 
tesy.  It  is  otherwise  with  the  upstart  men.  His 
pride  of  brain  and  life-long  station  makes  him 
haughtily  indifferent  to  them.  He  will  not  grovel 
with  these  meaner  human  clods. 

A  sardonic  grin  relaxes  his  dark  visage  as  he  sees 
them  go  forth  to  "  shine  "  in  the  East  and  "  abroad." 

Why  should  not  the  men  of  many  aliases,  the 
heroes  of  brawl  and  murder,  of  theft  and  specula 
tion,  freely  mix  with  the  more  polished  money 
sharks  swarming  in  the  Eastern  seas  of  financial 
piracy  ? 

"  Arcades  ambo  !  "  Bonanza  bullion  rings  truer 
than  the  paper  millions  of  shoddy  and  petroleum. 
The  alert,  bright  free-lances  of  the  West  are  gener 
ally  more  interesting  than  the  "  shoddy"  magnates 
or  "  contract  "  princes  of  the  war.  They  are,  at 


286  LAGUNITAS. 

least,  robust  adventurers ;  the  others  are  only 
money-ennobled  Eastern  mushrooms. 

The  Western  parvenu  is  the  more  picturesque. 
The  cunning  railroad  princes  have,  at  least,  built 
something.  It  is  a  nobler  work  than  the  paper  con 
structions  of  Wall  Street  operators.  It  may  be 
jeered,  that  these  men  "  builded  better  than  they 
knew."  Hardin  feels  that  on  one  point  they  never 
can  be  ridiculed,  even  by  Eastern  magnate,  Eng 
lish  promoter,  or  French  financier.  They  can  safely 
affirm  they  grasped  all  they  could.  They  left  no 
humble  sheaf  unreaped  in  the  clean-cut  fields  of 
their  work.  They  took  all  in  sight. 

Hardin  recognizes  the  clean  work  of  the  Western 
money  grabbers,  as  well  and  truly  done.  The  rail 
road  gang,  bonanza  barons,  and  banking  clique, 
sweep  the  threshing  floor.  Nothing  escapes  them. 

He  begins  to  feel,  in  the  giant  speculations  of 
1862  and  1863,  that  luck  can  desert  even  an  old 
gamester,  at  life's  exciting  table.  He  suffers  enor 
mously,  yet  Lagunitas's  resources  are  behind  him. 

In  the  long  fight  of  the  street,  victory  perches 
with  the  strongest  battalions.  Philip  Hardin  can 
not  know  that  men  toiling  by  the  day  in  obscure 
places  now,  will  yet  exchange  cigars  with  royal 
princes.  They  will  hobnob  with  the  Hapsburgs. 
They  will  enter  racing  bets  in  the  jewelled  note 
books  of  grand  dukes.  They  copy  the  luxuries,  the 
inborn  vic*es  of  the  blue  blood  of  Europe's  crowned 
Sardanapalian  autocrats. 

From  saloon  to  salon,  from  kitchen  to  kirmess, 
from  the  faro  table  to  the  Queen's  drawing-room, 
from  the  canvas  trousers  of  the  miner  to  Poole's 


LAGUNITAS.  287 

creations,  from  the  calico  frock  of  the  housemaid 
to  Worth's  dazzling  masterpieces,  from  making 
omelets  to  sneering  at  operas,  the  great  social 
lightning-change  act  goes  on. 

Philip  Hardin  loves  his  splendid  home,  where  the 
foot  of  Hortense  Duval  sinks  in  the  tufted  glories 
of  Persia  and  the  Wilton  looms.  He  does  not  mar 
vel  to  see  ex-cattle-drovers,  promoted  waiters,  lucky 
lemonade-sellers,  and  Pike  County  discoverers,  buy 
ing  gold  watch-chains  by  the  pound.  They  boast 
huge  golden  time-pieces,  like  young  melons.  Their 
diamond  cluster  pins  are  as  resplendent  as  crystal 
door-knobs. 

Fair  hands,  fresh  from  the  healthful  contact  of 
washing-soda,  wave  recognition  to  him  from  coupe 
or  victoria.  In  some  cases  these  are  driven  by  the 
millionnaire  himself,  who  insists  on  "  holding  the 
ribbons." 

The  newspapers,  in  the  recherch£  society  columns, 
refer  to  the  grandeur  of  the  "  Gold  Hill"  outfit,  the 
Virginia  City  "  gang,"  the  Reese  River  "hummers," 
or  the  Eberhardt  "  crowd."  These  are  the  Golden 
Horde. 

These  lucky  children  of  fortune  mingle  with  the 
stock-brokers, who, resplendent  in  attire, and  haughty 
of  demeanor,  fill  the  thousand  offices  of  specula 
tion.  They  disdain  the  meaner  element,  as  they 
tool  their  drags  over  the  Cliff  Road  to  bathe  in  cham 
pagne,  and  listen  to  the  tawdry  Phrynes  and  be 
draggled  Aspasias  who  share  their  vulture  feast  of 
the  moment. 

It  is  a  second  descent  of  male  and  female  harpies. 
Human  nature,  loosened  from  long  restraint  by  the 


288  LAGUNITAS. 

war,  has  flooded  the  coast  with  the  moral  debris  of 
the  conflict.  It  is  a  reign  of  the  Bacchanals. 

"  After  all,"  thinks  Philip  Hardin,  as  he  sees  these 
dazzling  rockets  rise,  with  golden  trails,  into  the 
social  darkness  of  the  Western  skies,  "they  are  really 
the  upper  classes  here.  Their  power  of  propulsion 
to  the  zenith  is  inherent  in  themselves.  If  they 
mingle,  in  time,  with  the  aristocratic  noblesse  of 
Europe,  they  may  infuse  a  certain  picturesque  ele 
ment."  Hardin  realizes  that  some  of  the  children  of 
these  millionnaires  of  a  day  will  play  at  school  with 
young  princes,  their  girls  will  marry  titles,  and  adorn 
their  smallest  belongings  with  excrescent  coronets 
and  coats  of  arms,  won  in  the  queer  lottery  of  mar 
riage. 

"  It  is  well,"  the  cold  lawyer  muses.  "  After  all, 
many  of  the  aristocracy  of  Europe  are  the  descend 
ants  of  expert  horse-thieves,  hired  bravos,  knights 
who  delighted  to  roast  the  merchant  for  his  fat 
money-bags,  or  spit  the  howling  peasant  on  their 
spears.  Many  soft-handed  European  dames  feel 
the  fiery  blood  burning  in  their  ardent  bosoms.  In 
some  cases,  a  reminder  of  the  beauty  whose  easy 
complaisance  caught  a  monarch's  smile,  and  earned 
an  infamous  title.  Rapine,  murder,  lust,  oppression, 
high-handed  bullying,  servile  slavishness  in  every 
vile  abandonment,  have  bred  up  delicate,  dreamy 
aristocrats.  Their  ancestors,  by  the  two  strains, 
were  either  red-handed  marauders,  or  easy  Delilahs." 

The  God-given  title  to  batten  in  luxury,  is  one 
which  depends  now  on  the  possession  of  golden 
wealth.  It  finally  burns  its  gleaming  pathway 
through  every  barrier. 


LAGUNITAS.  289 

With  direct  Western  frankness,  the  Pacific  "jeu- 
nesse  dor6e"  will  date  from  bonanza  or  railroad 
deal.  Spoliated  don,  stolen  franchise,  giant  stock- 
job,  easy  political  "  coup  de  main,"  government 
lands  scooped  in,  or  vast  tracts  of  timber  stolen 
under  the  law's  easy  formalities,  are  their  quarter- 
ings.  Whiskey  sellers,  adventuresses,  and  the  minor 
fry  of  fighting  henchmen,  make  up  the  glittering 
train  of  these  knights.  The  diamond-decked  dames 
of  this  "  Golden  Circle  "  exclaim  in  happy  chorus,  as 
they  sit  in  the  easy-chairs  of  wealth's  thronging 
courts : 

"This  is  the  way  we  long  have  sought, 
And  mourned  because  we  found  it  not." 

But  riding  behind  Philip  Hardin  is  the  grim 
horseman,  Care.  He  mourns  his' interrupted  polit 
ical  career.  The  end  of  the  war  approaches.  His 
spirited  sultana  now  points  to  the  lovely  child. 
Her  resolute  lips  speak  boldly  of  marriage. 

Hardin  wonders  if  any  refluent  political  wave  may 
throw  him  up  to  the  senate  or  the  governor's  chair. 
His  powers  rust  in  retirement.  He  fears  the  day 
when  his  stewardship  of  Lagunitas  may  be  at  an 
end. 

He  warily  determines  to  get  rid  of  Padre  Fran 
cisco  as  soon  as  possible.  The  death  of  Donna 
Dolores  places  all  in  his  hands.  As  he  confers  with 
the  quick-witted  ex-queen  of  the  El  Dorado,  he 
decides  that  he  must  remove  the  young  Mariposa 
heiress  to  San  Francisco.  It  is  done.  Philip  Har 
din  cannot  travel  continually  to  watch  over  a  child. 

"  Kaintuck  "  and  the  sorrowing  padre  alone  are 
left  at  Lagunitas.  The  roses  fall  unheeded  in  the 


290  LAGUNITAS. 

dead  lady's  bower.  On  this  visit,  when  Hardin 
takes  the  child  to  the  mansion  on  the  hill,  he  learns 
the  padre  only  awaits  the  return  of  Maxime  Valois, 
to  retire  to  France.  Unaware  of  the  great  strength 
of  the  North  and  East,  the  padre  feels  the  land  may 
be  held  in  the  clutches  of  war  a  long  period.  He 
would  fain  end  his  days  among  the  friends  of  his 
youth.  As  he  draws  toward  old  age,  he  yearns  for 
France.  Hardin  promises  to  assist  the  wishes  of 
the  old  priest. 

After  Padre  Francisco  retires  to  the  silent  cottage 
by  the  chapel,  Hardin  learns  from  "  Kaintuck "  a 
most  momentous  secret.  There  arc  gold  quartz 
mines  of  fabulous  richness  on  the  Lagunitas  grant. 
Slyly  extracting  a  few  tons  of  rock,  "  Kaintuck  "  has 
had  these  ores  worked,  and  gives  Philip  Hardin  the 
marvellous  results. 

Hardin's  dark  face  lights  up  :  "  Have  you  written 
Colonel  Valois  of  this?"  "Not  a  word,"  frankly 
says  "  Kaintuck." 

"  Judge,  I  did  not  want  to  bring  a  swarm  of 
squatters  over  our  lines.  I  thought  to  tell  you 
alone,  and  you  could  act  with  secrecy.  If  they 
stake  off  claims,  we  will  have  a  rush  on  our 
hands." 

Hardin  orders  the  strictest  silence.  As  he  lies  in 
the  guest  chamber  of  Lagunitas,  Philip  Hardin  is 
haunted  all  night  by  a  wild  unrest.  If  Lagunitas 
were  only  his.  There  is  only  Valois  between  him 
and  the  hidden  millions  in  these  quartz  veins.  Will 
no  Yankee  bullet  do  its  work? 

The  tireless  brain  works  on,  as  crafty  Philip  Har 
din  slumbers  that  night.  Visions  of  violence,  of 


LAGUNITAS.  29 1 

hidden  traps,  of  well-planned  crime,  haunt  his 
dreams.  Only  "  Kaintuck  "  knows.  Secretly,  bit  by 
bit,  he  has  brought  in  these  ores.  They  have  been 
smuggled  out  and  worked,  with  no  trace  of  their  real 
origin.  No  one  knows  but  one.  Though  old  "  Kain 
tuck  "  feels  no  shadow  over  his  safety,  the  sweep 
of  the  dark  angel's  wing  is  chilling  his  brow.  He 
knows  too  much. 

When  Hardin  returns  to  San  Francisco  he  busies 
himself  with  Lagunitas.  His  brow  is  dark  as  he 
paces  the  deck  of  the  Stockton  steamer.  Hortense 
Duval  has  provided  him  with  a  servant  of  great  dis 
cretion  to  care  for  the  child.  Marie  Be"rard  is  the 
typical  French  maid.  Deft,  neat-handed,  she  has 
an  eye  like  a  hawk.  Her  little  pet  weaknesses 
and  her  vices  give  spice  to  an  otherwise  colorless 
character. 

The  boat  steams  down  past  the  tule  sloughs. 
Hardin's  cigar  burns  late  on  the  deck  as  he  plots 
alone. 

When  he  looks  over  his  accumulated  letters,  he 
seizes  eagerly  a  packet  of  papers  marked  "  Havana." 
Great  God  ! 

He  has  read  of  Sherman's  occupation  of  Atlanta. 
The  struggle  of  Peachtree  Creek  brought  curses 
on  Tecumseh's  grizzled  head.  Now,  with  a  wildly 
beating  heart,  he  learns  of  the  death  of  Colonel 
Valois  among  the  captured  guns  of  De  Gress.  As 
the  last  pages  are  scanned,  he  tears  open  the  legal 
documents.  The  cold  beads  stand  out  on  his  brow. 
He  is  master  now.  The  king  is  dead  ! 

He  rings  for  Madame  Duval.  With  shaking  hand, 
he  pours  a  draught  from  the  nearest  decanter.  He 


292  LAGUNITAS. 

is  utterly  unnerved.  The  prize  is  at  last  within  his 
grasp.  It  shall  be  his  alone  ! 

Lighting  a  fresh  cigar  he  paces  the  room,  a 
human  tiger.  There  is  but  one  frail  girl  child 
between  him  and  Lagunitas,  with  its  uncoined  mill 
ions.  He  must  act.  To  be  deep  and  subtle  as  a 
thieving  Greek,  to  be  cold  and  sneaking  as  an 
Apache,  to  be  as  murderous  as  a  Malay  creeping, 
creese  in  hand,  over  the  bulwarks  of  a  merchantman, 
— all  that  is  to  be  only  himself.  Power  is  his  for  aye. 

But  to  be  logically  correct,  to  be  wise  and  safe  in 
secret  moves.  Time  to  think  ?  Yes.  Can  he  trust 
Hortense  Duval?  Partly.  He  needs  that  devilish 
woman's  wit  of  hers.  Will  he  tell  her  all?  No. 
Professional  prudence  rules.  A  dark  scheme  has 
formulated  itself  in  his  brain,  bounding  under  the 
blow  of  the  brandy. 

He  will  get  Hortense  out  of  the  State,  under  the 
pretext  of  sending  the  colonel's  child  to  Paris.  The 
orphan's  education  must  be  brilliant. 

He  will  have  no  one  know  of  the  existence  of 
Valois'  mine.  If  "Kaintuck"  were  only  gone. 
Yes!  Yes!  the  secret  of  the  mines.  If  the  priest 
were  only  in  France  and  locked  up  in  his  cloister. 
The  long  minority  of  the  child  gives  time  to  reap 
the  golden  harvest. 

A  sudden  thought :  the  child  may  not  live  !  His 
teeth  chatter.  As  he  paces  the  room,  Hortense 
enters.  She  sees  on  his  face  the  shadow  of  im 
portant  things. 

"  What  has  happened,  Philip  ?  "  she  eagerly  asks. 

"Sit  down,  Hortense.  Listen  to  me,"  says  Har- 
din,  as  he  sees  the  doors  all  secure. 


LAGUNITAS.  293 

Her  heart  beats  fast.  Is  this  the  end  of  all?  She 
has  feared  it  daily. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  live  in  Paris  ?  "  he  ejacu 
lates. 

He  watches  her  keenly,  pacing  to  and  fro.  A 
wild  hope  leaps  up.  Wilt  he  retire,  and  live  his 
days  out  abroad  ?  Is  the  marriage  to  come  at  last  ? 

"  Philip,  I  don't  understand  you,"  she  murmurs. 
Her  bosom  heaves  within  its  rich  silks,  under  its 
priceless  laces.  The  sparkling  diamonds  in  her  hair 
glisten,  as  she  gazes  on  his  inscrutable  face.  Is  this 
heaven  or  hell?  Paradise  or  a  lonely  exile?  To 
have  a  name  at  last  for  her  child  ? 

"  Colonel  Valois  was  killed  at  the  battles  near 
Atlanta.  I  have  just  received  from  the  Havana 
bankers  the  final  letters  of  Major  Peyton,  his 
friend."  Hardin  speaks  firmly. 

11  Under  the  will,  that  child  Isabel  inherits  the 
vast  property.  She  must  be  educated  in  France. 
Some  one  must  take  care  of  her." 

Hortense  leans  over,  eagerly.  What  does  he 
mean  ?  "  There  is  no  one  but  me  to  look  after  her. 
The  cursed  Yankees  will  probably  devastate  the 
South.  I  dare  not  probate  his  will  just  now.  There 
is  confiscation  and  all  such  folly." 

Philip  Hardin  resumes  his  walk.  "  I  do  not  wish 
to  pay  heavy  war  taxes  and  succession  tax  on  all 
this  great  estate.  I  must  remain  here  and  watch 
it.  I  must  keep  the  child's  existence  and  where 
abouts  quiet.  The  courts  could  worry  me  about 
her  removal.  Can  I  trust  you,  Hortense?"  His 
eyes  are  wolfish.  He  stops  and  fixes  a  burning 
glance  on  her.  She  returns  it  steadily. 


294  LAGUNTTAS. 

"  What  do  you  wish  me  to  do  ?  "  she  says,  warily. 

It  will  be  years  and  years  she  must  remain 
abroad. 

"  Can  I  trust  you  to  go  over  with  that  child,  and 
watch  her  while  I  guard  this  great  estate  ?  You 
shall  have  all  that  money  and  my  influence  can  do 
for  you.  You  can  live  as  an  independent  lady  and 
see  the  great  world." 

She  rises  and  faces  him,  a  beautiful,  expectant 
goddess.  "  Philip,  have  I  been  true  to  you  these 
years  ?  " 

He  bows  his  head.  It  is  so!  She  has  kept  the 
bond. 

"  Do  I  go  as  your  wife?"  Pier  voice  trembles 
with  eagerness. 

"  No.  But  you  may  earn  that  place  by  strictly 
following  my  wishes."  He  speaks  kindly.  She  is  a 
grand  woman  after  all.  Bright  tears  trickle  through 
her  jewelled  fingers.  She  has  thrown  herself  on  the 
fauteuil.  The  woman  of  thirty  is  a  royal  beauty, 
her  youthful  promise  being  more  than  verified.  She 
is  a  queen  of  luxury. 

"  Listen  to  me,  Hortense,"  says  Hardin,  softly. 
He  seats  himself  by  her  side  and  takes  the  lovely 
hands  in  his.  His  persuasive  voice  flows  like  honey. 
"  I  am  now  surrounded  by  enemies.  I  am  badly 
compromised.  I  am  all  tied  up.  I  fear  the  Union 
League,  the  government  spies,  and  the  damned 
Yankee  officers  here.  One  foolish  move  would  ut 
terly  ruin  me.  If  you  will  take  this  child  you  can 
take  any  name  you  wish.  No  one  knows  you  in 
Paris.  I  will  have  the  bankers  and  our  Southern 
friends  vouch  for  you  in  society.  I  will  support 


LAGUNITAS.  2g5 

you,  so  you  can  move  even  in  the  Imperial  circles. 
If  you  are  true  to  me,  in  time  I  will  do  as  you  wish. 
I  dare  not  now."  He  is  plausible,  and  knows  how 
to  plead.  This  woman,  loving  and  beloved,  cannot 
hold  out. 

"  Think  of  our  child,  Philip,"  cries  Hortense,  as 
she  throws  herself  on  his  breast.  He  is  moved  and 
yet  he  lies. 

"  I  do  at  this  very  moment,  Hortense.  I  am  not 
a  rich  man,  for  I  have  lost  much  for  the  South. 
These  Yankee  laws  keep  me  out  of  court.  I  dare 
not  get  in  their  power.  If  I  hold  this  estate,  I  will 
soon  be  able  to  settle  a  good  fortune  on  Irene.  I 
swear  to  you,  she  shall  be  my  only  heiress  except 
yourself.  You  can  take  Irene  with  you  and  give 
her  a  superb  education.  You  will  be  doing  a  true 
mother's  duty.  I  will  place  such  a  credit  and  funds 
for  you  that  the  future  has  no  fears.  When  I  am 
free  to  act,  '  when  this  foolish  war  is  over/  I  can 
come  to  you.  Will  you  do  as  I  wish  ?  " 

"Philip,  give  me  till  to-morrow  to  think.  I  have 
only  you  in  the  world."  The  beautiful  woman 
clings  to  him.  He  feels  she  will  yield.  He  is  con 
tent  to  wait. 

While  they  talk,  the  two  children  chatter  under 
the  window  in  childish  glee. 

"  Hortense,  you  must  act  at  once  !  to-morrow  ! 
The  steamer  leaves  in  three  days.  I  wish  you  to 
go  by  Panama  direct  to  France.  New  York  is  no 
place  for  you.  I  will  have  much  to  arrange.  I  will 
give  you  to-night.  Now  leave  me,  for  I  have  many 
papers  to  draw  up." 

In  her  boudoir,  Hortense  Duval  sits  hours  dream- 


296  LAGUNITAS. 

ing,  her  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy.  All  the  hold  she 
has  on  Hardin  is  her  daily  influence,  and  his  child. 
To  go  among  strangers.  To  be  alone  in  the  world. 
And  yet,  her  child's  future  interests.  While  Hardin 
paces  the  floor  below,  or  toils  at  his  cunningly 
worded  papers,  she  feels  she  is  in  the  hands  of  a 
master. 

Philip  Hardin's  late  work  is  done.  By  the  table 
he  dreams  over  the  future.  Hortense  will  surely 
work  his  will.  He  will  divest  himself  of  the  priest. 
He  must  open  these  mines.  He  will  get  rid  of 
"  Kaintuck;  "  but  how? 

Dark  thoughts  come  to  him.  He  springs  up 
aghast  at  the  clatter  when  his  careless  arm  brushes 
off  some  costly  trifles.  With  the  priest  gone  for 
ever  and  the  child  in  Paris,  he  has  no  stumbling 
block  in  his  way  but  "  Kaintuck."  There  are  ways  ; 
yes,  ways.  -  —  !  -  -!-  —  !  -  — ! 

"  He  must  go  on  a  journey  ;  yes,  a  long,  long 
journey."  Hardin  stops  here,  and  throwing  him 
self  on  his  couch,  drifts  out  on  the  sea  of  his  uneasy 
dreams. 

Morning  proves  to  him  Hortense  is  resigned  ;  an 
hour's  conclave  enlightens  her  as  to  the  new  life. 
Every  contingency  will  be  met.  Hortense,  living 
in  wealth's  luxurious  retirement,  will  be  welcomed 
as  Madame  Natalie  de  Santos,  everywhere.  A 
wealthy  young  widow,  speaking  French  and  Spanish, 
with  the  best  references.  She  will  wear  a  discreet 
mask  of  Southern  mystery,  and  an  acknowledged 
relationship  to  families  of  Mexico  and  California. 
Her  personal  appearance,  tact,  and  wealth  will  be 
an  appropriate  dower  to  the  new  acquisition  of  the 


LAGUNITAS.  297 

glittering  Capital  of  Pleasure.  She  is  good  enough 
for  Paris. 

Rapidly,  every  preparation  moves  on.  The  lug 
gage  of  Madame  de  Santos  is  rilled  with  the  varied 
possessions  indicating  years  of  elegance.  Letters 
to  members  of  the  Confederate  court  circle  at  Paris 
are  social  endorsements.  Wealth  will  do  the 
rest. 

Hardin's  anxiety  is  to  see  the  heiress  lodged  at  the 
"  Sacred  Heart  "  at  Paris.  In  his  capacity  as  guard 
ian,  he  delegates  sole  power  to  Madame  Natalie  de 
Santos.  She  alone  can  control  the  little  lady  of 
Lagunitas.  With  every  resource,  special  attentions 
will  be  paid  to  the  party,  from  Panama,  on  the 
French  line.  The  hegira  consists  of  the  two  chil 
dren,  Marie  Berard,  and  the  nameless  lady,  soon  to 
be  rebaptized  "  Natalie  de  Santos."  Not  unusual 
in  California,  —  !  —  a  golden  butterfly. 

Vague  sadness  fills  Hortense  Duval's  heart  as  she 
wanders  through  her  silent  mansion,  choosing  these 
little  belongings  which  are  dear  to  her  shadowed 
heart.  They  will  rob  a  Parisian  home  of  suspicious 
newness.  The  control  of  the  heiress  as  well  as  their 
own  child,  the  ample  monetary  provision,  and  the 
social  platform  arranged  for  her,  prove  Hardin's 
devotion.  It  is  the  best  she  can  do. 

True,  he  cannot  now  marry  with  safety.  He  has 
promised  to  right  that  wrong  in  time. 

There  has  been  no  want  of  tenderness  in  his 
years  of  devotion.  Hortense  Duval  acknowledges 
to  herself  that  he  dares  not  own  her  openly,  as  his 
wife,  even  here.  But  in  Paris,  after  a  year  or  so. 
Then  he  could  come,  at  least  as  far  as  New  York. 


298  LAGUNITAS. 

He  could  meet  her,  and  by  marriage,  legitimize  his 
child.  Her  child.  The  tiger's  darling. 

A  sudden  thought  strikes  her.  Some  other 
woman  ! — Some  one  of  real  station  and  blood.  Ah, 
no  !  She  shivers  slightly  as  she  paces  the  room. 
No  corner  of  the  earth  could  hide  him  from  her 
vengeance  if  he  betrays  her. 

The  dinner  of  the  last  evening  is  a  serious  feast. 
As  Hortense  ministers  to  the  dark  master  of  the 
house,  she  can  see  he  has  not  fully  disclosed  his 
ultimate  plans.  It  is  positive  the  child  must  be 
hidden  away  at  Paris  from  all.  Hardin  enjoins 
silence  as  to  the  future  prospects  of  the  orphan. 
The  little  one  has  already  forgotten  her  father. 
She  is  rapidly  losing  all  memories  of  her  sweet 
mother.  » 

In  the  silence  of  these  last  hours,  Philip  Hardin 
speaks  to  the  woman  who  has  been  his  only  inti 
mate  in  years. 

"  Hortense,  I  may  find  a  task  for  you  which  will 
prove  your  devotion,"  he  begins  with  reluctance. 

"  What  is  it,  Philip  ?  "  she  falters. 

He  resumes.  "  I  do  not  know  how  far  I  may  be 
pushed  by  trouble.  I  shall  have  to  struggle  and 
fight  to  hold  my  own.  I  am  safe  for  a  time,  but  I 
may  be  pushed  to  the  wall.  Will  you,  for  the  sake 
of  our  own  child,  do  as  I  bid  you  with  that  Spanish 
brat  ?  " 

At  last  she  sees  his  gloomy  meaning.  Is  it  mur 
der?  An  orphan  child  ! 

"  Philip,"  she  sobs,  "  be  careful !  For  my  sake, 
for  your  own"  She  is  chilled  by  his  cold  designs. 

"  Only  at  the  last.     Just  as  I  direct.     I  may  wish 


LAGUNITAS.  299 

you  to  control  the  disappearance  of  that  young  one, 
who  stands  between  me  and  our  marriage." 

She  seizes  his  hands  :  "  Swear  to  me  that  you  will 
never  deceive  me." 

"  I  do,"  he  answers  huskily. 

"  On  the  cross,"  she  sternly  says,  flashing  before 
his  startled  eyes  a  jewelled  crucifix.  "  I  will  obey 
you — I  swear  it  on  this — as  long  as  you  are  true." 
She  presses  her  ashy  lips  on  the  cross. 

He  kisses  it.     The  promise  is  sealed. 

In  a  few  hours,  Hortense  Duval,  from  the  deck  of 
the  swift  Golden  Gate,  sees  the  sunlight  fall  for  the 
last  time,  in  long  years,  on  San  Francisco's  sandy 
hills. 

With  peculiar  adroitness,  in  defence  of  her  past, 
for  the  sake  of  her  future  position,  she  keeps  her 
staterooms ;  only  walking  the  decks  with  her  maid 
occasionally  at  night.  No  awkward  travelling  pio 
neer  must  recognize  her  as  the  lost  "  Beauty  of 
the  El  Dorado."  A  mere  pretence  of  illness  is 
enough. 

When  safely  out  of  the  harbor  of  Colon,  on  the 
French  steamer,  she  is  perfectly  free.  Her  passage 
tickets,  made  out  as  Madame  de  Santos,  are  her 
new  credentials. 

She  has  left  her  old  life  behind  her.  Keen  and 
self-possessed,  with  quiet  dignity  she  queens  it  on 
the  voyage.  When  the  French  coast  is  reached,  her 
perfect  mastery  of  herself  proves  she  has  grown 
into  her  new  position. 

Philip  Hardin  has  whispered  at  the  last,  "  I  want 
you  to  get  rid  of  your  maid  in  a  few  months.  It  is 
just  as  well  she  should  be  out  of  the  way." 


300  LAGUNITAS. 

When  out  of  Hardin's  influence,  reviewing  the 
whole  situation,  Hortense,  in  her  real  character,  be 
comes  a  little  fearful.  What  if  he  should  drop  her? 
Suppose  he  denies  her  identity.  He  can  legally 
reclaim  the  "  Heiress  of  Lagunitas."  Hortense 
Duval  well  knows  that  Philip  Hardin  will  stop  at 
nothing.  As  the  French  coast  nears,  Hortense 
mentally  resolves  not  to  part  with  Marie  Berard. 
Marie  is  a  valuable  witness  of  the  past  relations. 
She  is  the  only  safeguard  she  has  against  Hardin's 
manifold  schemes.  So  far  there  is  no  "  entente  cor- 
diale "  between  mistress  and  maid.  They  watch 
each  other. 

By  hazard,  as  the  children  are  brought  out,  ready 
for  the  landing,  Hortense  notices  the  similarity  of 
dress,  the  speaking  resemblance  of  the  children. 
Marie  Berard,  proud  of  their  toilettes,  remarks, 
"  Madame,  they  are  almost  twins  in  looks." 

Hortense  Duval's  lightning  mind  conceives  a 
daring  plan.  She  broods  in  calm  and  quiet,  as  the 
cars  bear  her  from  Havre  to  Paris.  She  must  act 
quickly.  She  knows  Hardin  may  use  more  ways 
of  gaining  information  than  her  own  letters.  His 
brain  is  fertile.  His  purse,  powerful. 

Going  to  an  obscure  hotel,  she  procures  a  carnage. 
She  drives  alone  to  the  Convent  of  the  Sacre  Cceur. 
With  perfect  tranquillity  she  announces  her  wishes. 
The  Mother  Superior,  personally,  is  charmed  with 
Madame  de  Santos.  A  mere  mention  of  her  bank 
ing  references  is  sufficient.  Blest  power  of  gold  ! 

Madame  Natalie  de  Santos  is  in  good  humor 
when  she  regains  her  apartment.  On  the  next 
morning,  after  a  brief  visit  to  her  bankers,  who 


LAGUNITAS.  30 1 

receive  her  "  en  princesse,"  she  drives  alone  with 
her  own  child  to  the  Sacred  Heart.  While  the 
little  one  prattles  with  some  engaging  Sisters,  Hor- 
tense  calmly  registers  the  nameless  child  of  sin  as 
Isabel  Valois,  the  Heiress  of  Lagunitas.  A  year's 
fees  and  payments  are  made.  A  handsome  "  outfit 
allowance  "  provides  all  present  needs  suited  to  the 
child's  station.  Arranging  to  send  the  belongings 
of  the  heiress  to  the  convent,  Hortense  Duval 
buries  her  past  forever  in  giving  to  her  own  child 
the  name  and  station  of  the  heiress  of  Lagunitas. 
To  keep  a  hold  on  Hardin  she  will  place  the  other 
child  where  that  crafty  lawyer  can  never  find  her. 
Her  bosom  swells  with  pride.  Now,  at  last,  she  can 
control  the  deepest  plans  of  Philip  Hardin.  But  if 
he  should  demand  their  own  child  ?  He  has  no 
legal  power  over  the  nameless  one — not  even  here. 
Marriage  first.  After  that,  the  secret.  It  is  a 
master  stroke. 

Hortense  Duval  thinks  only  of  her  own  child, 
She  cares  nothing  for  the  dead  Confederate  under 
the  Georgia  pines.  Gentle  Dolores  is  sleeping  irc' 
the  chapel  grounds  at  Lagunitas.  Isabel  Valois 
has  not  a  friend  in  the  world ! 

But,  Marie  Berard  must  be  won  and  controlled. 
Why  not  ?  It  is  fortune  for  her  to  be  true  to 
her  liberal  mistress.  Berard  knows  Paris  and  has 
friends.  She  will  see  them.  If  the  maid  be  dis 
charged,  Hortense  loses  her  only  witness-  against 
Hardin  ;  her  only  safeguard.  As  Madame  de  San 
tos  is  ushered  to  her  rooms,  she  decides  to  act  at 
once,  and  drop  forever  her  past.  But  Marie? 

Marie  Berard  wonders  at  the  obscure  hotel.     Her 


3<D2  LAGUNITAS. 

brain  finds  no  reason  for  this  isolation.  "  Ah  !  les 
modes  de  Paris."  Madame  will  soon  emerge  as  a 
lovely  vision. 

In  the  years  of  her  service  with  Hortense  Duval, 
Marie  has  quietly  enriched  herself.  She  knows  the 
day  of  parting  comes  in  all  unlawful  connections. 
Time  and  fading  charms,  coldness  and  the  lassitude 
of  habit,  eat  away  the  golden  chain  till  it  drops  off. 
"  On  se  range  enfin." 

The  *'  femme  de  chambre  "  knows  too  much  to  ever 
think  of  imposing  on  Judge  Hardin.  He  is  too  sly. 
It  is  from  Madame  de  Santos  the  golden  stream 
must  flow. 

Self-satisfied,  Marie  Be"rard  smiles  in  her  cat-like 
way  as  she  thinks  of  a  nice  little  house  in  Paris.  Its 
income  will  support  her.  She  will  nurse  this  situa 
tion  with  care.  It  is  a  gold  mine. 

There  is  no  wonderment  in  her  keen  eyes  when 
Madame  de  Santos  returns  without  the  child  she 
took  away.  A  French  maid  never  wonders.  But 
she  is  astonished  when  her  mistress,  calling  her, 
.calmly  says,  pointing  to  the  lonely  orphan  : 

"  Marie,  I  wish  you  to  aid  me  to  get  rid  of  this 
child.  Do  you  know  any  one  in  Paris  whom  we  can 
trust  ?  " 

"  Will  Madarnc  kindly  explain  ?  "  the  maid  gasps, 
her  visions  of  that  snug  house  becoming  more  def 
inite. 

"  Sit  ,down,  Marie,"  the  newly  christened  Madame 
de  Santos  commands.  "  I  will  trust  you.  You 
shall  be  richly  rewarded." 

The  Frenchwoman's  eyes  glitter.  The  golden 
shower  she  has  longed  for.  "  Auri  sacra  fames." 


LAGUN1TAS.  303 

"You  may  trust  me  perfectly,  Madame." 

"  I  wish  you  to  understand  me  fully.  We  must 
act  at  once.  I  will  see  no  friends  till  this  girl  is 
out  of  the  way.  Then  I  shall  at  once  arrange  my 
household." 

"  Does  the  young  lady  not  go  to  the  convent  ?  " 
says  the  astonished  servant,  a  trifle  maliciously. 

"  Certainly  not,"  coldly  says  Hortense.  "  My 
own  child  shall  be  the  heiress  of  that  fortune.  She 
is  already  at  the  S^acred  Heart." 

Marie  Berard's  keen  eye  sees  the  plot.  An  ex 
change  of  children.  The  nameless  child  shall  be 
dowered  with  millions.  Her  own  future  is  assured. 

"  Does  any  one  know  of  this  plan  ? "  the  maid 
eagerly  asks. 

"Only  you  and  I,"  is  the  response. 

Ah !  Revenge  on  her  stately  tyrant  lover.  The 
maid  dreams  of  a  golden  shower.  That  snug  hotel. 
It  is  a  delicious  moment.  "  What  do  you  wish  me 
to  do,  Madame?"  Marie  is  now  cool. 

"  Find  a  place,  at  once,  where  the  child  can  be 
well  treated  in  a  '  bourgeois  '  family.  I  want  you  to 
place  her  as  if  she  were  your  own.  I  wish  no  one 
to  ever  see  me  or  know  of  me  in  this  matter." 

The  maid's  eyes  sparkle.  Fortune's  wheel  turns. 
"  And  I  shall  be — "  she  pauses. 

';You  may  be  suspected  to  be  the  mother.  No 
one  can  learn  anything  from  the  child.  I  wish  her 
to  be  raised  in  ignorance." 

Madame  de  Santos  is  a  genius  in  a  quiet  way. 
It  is  true,  the  prattling  heiress,  on  the  threshold 
of  a  new  life,  speaks  only  Spanish  and  a  little  Eng 
lish.  She  has  forgotten  her  father.  Even  now 


304  LAGUNITAS. 

her  mother  fades  from  her  mind.  A  few  passing 
months  will  sweep  away  all  memories  of  Lagunitas. 
The  children  are  nearly  the  same  age,  and  not 
dissimilar. 

"And  the  Judge?"  murmurs  the  servant. 

"  I  will  take  care  of  that,"  sharply  says  Hortense. 

"  Madame,  it  is  a  very  great  responsibility," 
begins  the  sly  maid,  now  confidante.  There  is  a 
strong  sharp  accent  on  the  "  very." 

"  I  will  pay  you  as  you  neves  dreamed  of  being 
paid."  Madame  Natalie  is  cool  and  quiet.  Gold, 
blessed  gold  ! 

"  It  is  well.  I  am  yours  for  life,"  says  Marie 
Be"rard.  The  two  women's  eyes  meet.  They  under 
stand  one  another.  Feline,  prehensile  nerves. 

Then,  action  at  once.  Hortense  hands  the  woman 
a  package  of  bank-notes.  "  Leave  here  as  if  for  a 
walk.  Take  a  '  fiacre  '  on  the  street,  and  go  to  your 
friends.  You  tell  me  you  have  some  discreet  ones. 
Tell  them  you  have  a  child  to  take  care  of.  Say  no 
more.  They  will  guess  the  rest.  I  want  the  child 
to  be  left  to-morrow  morning.  After  your  return 
we  can  arrange  her  present  needs.  The  rest  you 
can  provide  through  your  friends.  I  want  you  to 
see  the  child  once  a  week,  not  oftencr.  Go." 

In  ten  minutes  Marie  B6rard  is  rolling  away  to 
her  advisers.  Her  letter  has  already  announced  her 
arrival.  She  knows  her  Paris.  If  a  French  maid 
has  a  heart  history,  hers  is  a  succession  of  former 
Parisian  scenes. 

Madame  Natalie  de  Santos  closes  the  doors. 
While  her  emissary  is  gone  she  examines  the  child 
thoroughly.  Not  a  single  blemish  or  peculiar  mark 


LAGUNITAS.  305 

on  the  girl,  save  a  crossed  scar  on  her  left  arm, 
between  the  wrist  and  elbow.  Some  surgical  opera 
tion  of  trifling  nature  has  left  a  mark  in  its  healing, 
which  will  be  visible  for  many  years. 

Making  careful  mental  note,  the  impatient  woman 
awaits  her  servant's  return. 

Seated,  she  watches  the  orphan  child  trifling  with 
her  playthings.  Hortense  Duval  feels  no  twinge  of 
conscience.  Her  own  child  shall  be  lifted  far  be 
yond  the  storms  of  fate.  If  Hardin  acts  rightly,  all 
is  well.  If  he  attempts  to  betray  her,  all  the  better. 
She  will  guard  the  heiress  of  Mariposa  with  her  life. 
She  shall  become  a  "  bourgeoise." 

Should  Hardin  die  before  he  marries  her,  the 
base-born  child  is  then  sure  of  the  millions.  She 
will  make  her  a  woman  of  the  world.  When  the 
great  property  is  safely  hers,  then  she  can  trust 
her  own  daughter. 

As  to  the  poor  orphan,  buried  in  Paris,  educated 
as  a  "  bourgeoise,"  she  will  never  see  her  face,  save 
perhaps,  as  a  passing  stranger.  The  child  can  be 
happy  in  the  solid  comforts  of  a  middle-class  family. 
It  is  good  enough  for  her. 

And  Marie  Berard.  She  needs  her,  at  all  cost,  as 
a  protection,  the  only  bulwark  against  any  dark 
scheme  of  Hardin's.  Her  tool,  and  her  one  wit 
ness. 

Ten  years  in  the  mansion  on  the  hills  of  San 
Francisco  have  given  her  an  insight  into  Philip 
Hardin's  desperate  moves  on  the  chessboard  of 
life.  Love,  faith,  truth,  she  dares  not  expect.  A 
lack  of  fatherly  tenderness  to  the  child  he  has 
wronged  ;  his  refusal  to  put  a  wedding  ring  on  her 

20 


306  LAGUNITAS. 

own  finger,  tell  her  the  truth.  She  knows  her  hold 
is  slight.  But  now  the  very  millions  of  Lagunitas 
shall  fight  against  him.  Move  for  move  in  the  play. 
Blow  for  blow,  if  it  comes  to  a  violent  rupture. 

Hortense  Duval  might  lose  her  hold  on  cold  Philip 
Hardin.  The  scheming  beauty  smiles  when  she 
thinks  how  true  Marie  Berard  will  be  to  the  new 
Madame  de  Santos.  A  thorough  adventuress,  she 
can  count  on  her  fellow-conspirator.  Two  smart 
women,  with  a  solid  golden  bond,  united  against  a 
distant,  aging  man. 

Marie  returns,  her  business-like  manner  showing 
no  change.  "  I  have  found  the  family,"  she  says. 
"  They  will  take  the  child  at  once." 

In  the  evening  every  arrangement  is  made  for  an 
early  departure.  It  is  a  rare  day's  work. 

Marie  Berard  conducts  the  friendless  child  to  its 
new  home,  in  the  morning  hours.  The  luggage  and 
belongings  are  despatched.  All  is  over.  Safe  at 
last. 

Free  to  move,  as  soon  as. the  maid  returns,  Hor 
tense  at  once  leaves  her  modest  quarters.  The  bills 
are  all  paid.  Their  belongings  are  packed  as  for 
departure.  To  the  Hotel  Meurice,  by  a  roundabout 
route,  mistress  and  maid  repair.  Hortense  Duval 
is  no  more.  A  new  social  birth. 

Madame  de  Santos,  in  superb  apartments,  pro 
ceeds  to  arrange  her  entree  into  future  social  great 
ness.  A  modern  miracle. 

No  one  has  seen  the  children  together  in  Paris. 
On  the  steamer  not  a  suspicion  was  raised.  Natalie 
de  Santos  breathes  freely.  A  few  days  of  prepara 
tion  makes  Madame  "  au  fait "  in  the  newest  fash- 


LACJUNITAS.  307 

ions.  Her  notes,  cartes  de  visite,  dazzling  "  batterie 
de  toilette,"  and  every  belonging  bear  crest,  mono 
gram,  and  initial  of  the  new-born  Senora  Natalie. 

Securely  lodged  in  an  aristocratic  apartment, 
Madame  de  Santos  receives  her  bankers,  and  the 
members  of  the  Southern  circle,  to  whom  the  Judge 
has  given  her  the  freemasonry  of  his  influence. 
Madame  de  Santos  is  now  a  social  fact,  soon  to 
find  her  old  life  a  waning  memory.  The  glittering 
splendors  of  the  court  gaieties  are  her  everyday  en 
joyments. 

Keenly  watching  all  Californians,  protected  by 
her  former  retirement,  her  foreign  appearance  and 
glamour  of  wealth  impose  on  all.  She  soon  almost 
forgets  herself  and  that  dark  past  before  the  days 
of  the  El  Dorado.  She  is  at  last  secure  within 
wealth's  impregnable  ramparts,  and  defies  adverse 
fate. 

An  apartment  on  the  Champs  Elysees  is  judicious 
ly  chosen  by  her  bankers.  Marie  Berard,  with  her 
useful  allies,  aids  in  the  selection  of  the  exquisite 
adornment.  Her  own  treasures  aid  in  the  "  ensem 
ble." 

The  servants,  the  equipage  of  perfect  appoint 
ment,  all  her  surroundings  bespeak  the  innate  refine 
ment  of  the  woman  who  has  for  long  years  pleased 
even  the  exacting  Hardin. 

Natalie  de  Santos  has  not  neglected  to  properly 
report  by  telegraph  and  mail  to  the  guardian  of 
the  person  and  future  millions  of  Col.  Valois*  only 
child. 

Her  attitude  toward  society  is  quiet,  dignified, 
without  haste  or  ostentation.  A  beautiful  woman, 


308  LAGUNTTAS. 

talented,  free,  rich,  and  "  a  la  mode,"  can  easily 
reach  the  social  pleasures  of  that  gaudy  set  who  now 
throng  the  Tuileries. 

There  is  not  a  care  on  Natalie  de  Santos'  mind. 
Her  own  child  is  visited,  with  a  growing  secret  pleas 
ure.  She  thrives  in  the  hands  of  the  gentle  ladies 
of  the  Sacred  Heart. 

Regularly,  Marie  Berard  brings  reports  of  the 
other  child,  whose  existence  is  important  for  the 
present. 

Madame  de  Santos,  discreetly  veiled,  finds  time 
to  observe  the  location  and  movements  of  the  or 
phan.  Marie  Berard's  selection  has  been  excellent. 

"  Louise  Moreau  "  is  the  new  name  of  the  change 
ling  heiress,  now  daily  becoming  more  contented  in 
her  new  home. 

Aristide  Dauvray  has  a  happy  household.  A 
master  decorative  workman,  only  lacking  a  touch  of 
genius  to  be  a  sculptor,  his  pride  is  in  his  artistic 
handiwork.  His  happiness  in  his  good  wife  Jose 
phine.  His  heart  centres  in  his  talented  boy. 

To  educate  his  only  son  Raoul,  to  be  able  to  de 
velop  his  marked  talent  as  an  artist,  has  been  Aris- 
tide's  one  ambition.  The  proposition  to  take  the 
girl,  and  the  liberal  payments  promised,  assure  the 
artistic  future  of  Raoul.  Marie  Berard  has  appre 
ciated  that  the  life  of  this  orphan  child  is  the  meas 
ure  of  her  own  golden  fortunes.  Good  Josephine 
becomes  attached  to  the  shy,  sweet  little  wanderer, 
who  forgets,  day  by  day,  in  the  new  life  of  Cinde 
rella,  her  babyish  glimpses  of  any  other  land. 

Natalie  de  Santos  is  safe.  Pressing  her  silken 
couch,  she  rests  in  splendor.  Her  letters  from  Har- 


LAGUNITAS.  309 

din  arc  clear,  yet  not  always  satisfactory.  Years  of 
daily  observance  have  taught  her  to  read  his  char 
acter.  As  letter  after  letter  arrives  she  cons  them 
all  together.  Not  a  word  of  personal  tenderness. 
Not  an  expression  which  would  betray  any  of  their 
secrets.  With  no  address  or  signature,  they  are  full 
only  in  directions.  He  is  called  for  a  length  of  time 
to  Lagunitas,  to  put  the  estate  in  "  general  order." 

Removed  from  the  sway  of  Hardin,  Natalie  re 
lies  upon  herself.  Her  buoyant  wings  bear  her  on  in 
society.  Recognized  as  an  opponent  of  the  North, 
she  meets  those  lingering  Southern  sympathizers 
who  have  little  side  coteries  yet  in  glittering  Paris. 

Adulation  of  her  beauty  and  sparkling  wit  fires 
her  genius.  Her  French  is  classic.  The  sealed 
book  of  her  youth  gives  no  hint  of  where  her  fine 
idiom  came  from.  Merrily  Marie  Be"rard  recounts 
to  the  luxurious  social  star  the  efforts  of  sly  dames 
and  soft-voiced  messieurs  to  fathom  the  "  De  San 
tos'  "  past. 

Marie  Berard  is  irreproachable  ;  never  presuming. 
She  can  wait. 

Madame  Natalie's  stormy  past  has  taught  her  to 
trust  no  one.  It  is  her  rule  from  the  first  that  no 
one  shall  see  Isabel  Valois,  the  pet  of  the  Sacred 
Heart  Convent,  but  herself.  Little  remains  in  a 
month  or  two,  with  either  child,  of  its  cradle 
memories.  The  months  spent  by  the  two  girls  in 
mastering  a  new  language  arc  final  extinguishers  of 
the  past. 

Without  undue  affectation  of  piety,  Madame 
de  Santos  gives  liberally.  The  good  nuns  strive  to 
fit  the  young  heiress  for  her  dazzling  future. 


310  LAGUNITAS. 

Keenly  curious  of  the  dangers  of  the  situation, 
Natalie  writes  Hardin  that  she  has  sent  her  own 
child  away  to  a  country  institution,  to  prevent 
awkward  inquiry.  As  months  roll  on,  drawn  in  by 
the  whirlpool  of  pleasure,  Natalie  de  Santos'  letters 
become  brief.  They  are  only  statements  of  affairs 
to  her  absent  "  financial  agent." 

Hardin 's  letters  are  acknowledgments  of  satis 
factory  news,  and  directions  regarding  the  educa 
tion  of  the  child.  He  does  not  refer  to  the  future 
of  the  woman  who  ruled  his  home  so  long.  No 
tenderness  for  his  own  child  appears.  He  is  en 
grossed  in  business,  and  she  in  pleasure.  Avarice  is 
the  gentlemanly  passion  of  his  later  years.  "  Royal 
days  of  every  pleasure  "  for  the  brilliant  woman  ; 
she,  ambitious  and  self-reliant,  lives  only  for  the 
happy  moments. 

And  yet,  as  Natalie  de  Santos  sweeps  from  palace 
ball  or  the  opera,  she  frames  plans  as  to  the  future 
control  of  Hardin.  To  keep  the  child  he  fears, 
where  his  agency  can  reach  her,  is  her  aim.  To 
place  the  child  he  would  ignore,  where  millions  will 
surround  her,  is  her  ambition.  With  Marie  Be"rard 
as  friend,  confidante,  agent,  and  spy,  she  can  keep 
these  two  children  apart.  Hortense  Duval  and 
Natalie  Santos  can  defy  the  world. 

Distrust  of  Hardin  always  burns  in  her  breast. 
Will  he  dare  to  attempt  her  life  ;  to  cut  off  her  in 
come  ;  to  betray  her  ?  When  the  work  of  years  is 
reflected  in  her  own  child's  graces  and  charms,  will 
the  man  now  aging  ever  give  its  mother  the  name 
of  wife?  Her  fears  belie  her  hopes. 

She  must  guard  her  own   child,  and  conceal  the 


LAGUNITAS.  3 1 1 

other.  He  may  live  and  work  out  his  schemes.  If 
he  acts  well,  she  will  be  ready  to  meet  him.  If  not, 
the  same. 

But  she  has  sworn  in  her  heart  of  hearts,  the 
orphan  shall  live.  If  necessary  to  produce  her,  she 
alone  knows  her  hiding  place.  If  fortune  favors, 
the  properties  shall  descend  to  her  own  child. 

The  year  1865  opens  with  the  maddest  gaieties. 
Though  France  is  drained  of  men  and  treasure  for 
a  foolish  war  in  Mexico,  glittering  streets,  rich 
salons,  mad  merry-makings  and  imperial  splendor 
do  not  warn  gay  Lutetia  she  is  tottering  toward  the 
dawning  war-days  of  gloom.  The  French  are  drunk 
with  pleasure. 

Marie  B£rard  has  now  a  nice  little  fund  of  ring 
ing  napoleons  securely  invested,  and  that  hoard  is 
growing  monthly.  Natalie  de  Santos  gives  freely, 
amply.  The  maid  bides  her  time  for  a  great  de 
mand.  She  can  wait. 

A  rare  feminine  genius  is  Natalie  de  Santos. 
The  steady  self-poise  of  her  nature  prevents  even  a 
breath  of  scandal.  Frank,  daring,  and  open  in  her 
pleasures,  she  individualizes  no  swain,  she  encour 
ages  no  one  sighing  lover.  Her  name  needs  no 
defence  save  the  open  record  of  her  social  life.  A 
solid,  undisturbed  position  grows  around  her.  The 
dear-bought  knowledge  of  her  youth  enables  her  to 
read  the  vapid  men  and  women  around  her. 

As  keen-eyed  as  a  hawk,  Madame  Natalie  watches 
the  scholar  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  She  takes  good 
care,  also,  to  verify  the  substantial  comfort  and  fair 
education  of  little  Louise  Moreau. 

With  silent  lips  she  moves  among  the  new  associ- 


312  LAGUNITAS. 

ates  of  her  later  days.  Madame  de  Santos'  position 
moves  toward  impregnability,  as  the  months  roll 
on.  A  "  lionne  "  at  last. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

A  MARIPOSA  BONANZA. — NATALIE  DE  SANTOS 
BORN  IN  PARIS. — THE  QUEEN  OF  THE  EL 
DORADO  JOINS  THE  GALLIC  "  FOUR  HUNDRED." 

PHILIP  HARDIN'S  days  are  busy  after  the  steamer 
bears  away  his  "  Ex-Queen  of  the  El  Dorado." 
There  are  his  tangled  finances  to  arrange;  giant 
speculations  to  follow  up.  The  Lagunitas  affairs 
are  pressing.  That  hidden  mine  ! 

Hardin  sets  his  house  in  order.  The  establish 
ment  is  reduced.  He  has,  now,  peace  for  his 
schemes.  No  petticoat  rule  now.  No  prying  eyes. 
As  the  winter  rain  howls  among  his  trees,  he  real 
izes  that  the  crash  of  the  Confederacy  will  bring- 
back  clouds  of  stragglers  from  the  ruin  yet  to  come. 
He  must  take  legal  possession  of  Lagunitas.  He 
has  a  good  reason.  Its  hidden  gold  will  give  him 
power. 

His  public  life  is  only  cut  off  for  a  time.  Gold  is 
potent;  yes,  omnipotent!  He  can  bide  his  time. 
He  must  find  that  mine.  He  has  now  two  points 
to  carry  in  his  game.  To  rid  himself  of  the  padre 
is  easy,  in  time.  To  disembarrass  himself  of  old 
"  Kaintuck"  is  another  thing. 

His  face  grows  bitter  as  he  thinks  of  the  bound 
less  wealth  to  be  reached  in  Lagunitas's  glittering 


LAGUNTTAS.  313 

quartz  beds.  The  property  must  remain  in  his 
care. 

If  the  heiress  were  to  die,  the  public  administra 
tor  might  take  it.  He  knows  he  is  not  popular. 
His  disloyalty  is  too  well  known.  Besides,  Valois' 
death  is  not  yet  officially  proven.  He  has  kept  his 
counsel.  No  one  has  seen  the  will.  But  the  return 
ing  wave  of  Confederates  may  bring  news.  The 
dead  colonel  was  of  too  great  local  fame  to  drop 
unheeded  into  his  grave. 

His  carefully  prepared  papers  make  him  the  rep 
resentative  of  Colonel  Valois,  He  is  legal  guardian 
of  the  child.  He  will  try  and  induce  "  Kaintuck  " 
to  quit  the  rancho.  Then  he  will  be  able  to  open 
the  mines.  If  the  Confederacy  totters  to  its  fall, 
with  the  control  of  that  wealth  he  may  yet  hold  the 
highest  place  on  the  coast. 

Dreaming  over  his  cigar,  he  knows  that  legisla 
tures  can  be  bought,  governors  approached,  and 
high  positions  gained,  by  the  adroit  use  of  gold. 
Bribery  is  of  all  times  and  places. 

Telegraphing  to  "  Kaintuck  "  to  meet  him  near 
Stockton,  at  the  station,  with  a  travelling  carriage, 
the  Judge  revolves  plans  to  rid  himself  of  this  relic 
of  the  Valois  regime. 

His  stay  at  Lagunitas  will  be  for  some  weeks. 
He  has  now  several  agents  ready  to  open  up  the 
mines. 

A  liberal  use  of  the  income  of  Lagunitas  has 
buoyed  up  his  sinking  credit.  But  his  stock-gam 
bling  has  been  desperately  unlucky.  Hardin  re 
volves  in  his  mind  the  displacement  of  old  "  Kain 
tuck."  The  stage  sweeps  down  the  San  Joaquin  to 


314  LAGUNITAS. 

the  station,  where  his  team  awaits  him.  An  un 
wonted  commotion  greets  him  there.  His  arrival 
is  opportune.  In  the  room  which  is  the  office,  bar, 
and  billiard-room  of  the  little  hostelry,  poor  old 
"  Kaintuck  "  lies  dying,  when  the  Judge  dismounts. 
It  is  the  hand  of  fate. 

During  the  hours  of  waiting,  a  certain  freedom, 
induced  by  copious  draughts  of  fiery  Bourbon, 
caused  the  old  foreman  to  injudiciously  "  Hurrah 
for  Jeff  Davis."  He  gave  free  vent  to  his  peculiar 
Southern  opinions. 

A  sudden  quarrel  with  a  stranger  results  in  a 
quick  resort  to  weapons.  Benumbed  with  age  and 
whiskey,  the  old  trapper  is  shot  while  tugging  at 
his  heavy  "  Colt." 

Before  the  smoke  cleared  away  the  stranger  was 
far  away.  Dashing  off,  he  spurred  his  horse  at  full 
speed  into  the  chaparral.  No  one  dared,  no  one 
cared,  to  follow  a  desperate  man  riding  for  his  life. 

Hardin  orders  every  attention  to  the  sufferer. 
Old  "  Kaintuck "  is  going  out  alone  on  the  dark 
river. 

Hardin,  steeled  to  scenes  like  this,  by  an  exciting 
life,  blesses  this  opportune  relief.  "  Kaintuck  "  is  off 
his  hands  forever.  Before  the  Judge  leaves,  a  rude 
examination  by  a  justice  precedes  the  simple  obse 
quies  of  the  dead  ranger. 

One  more  red  mound  by  the  wayside.  A  few 
pencilled  words  on  a  shingle  mark  the  grave,  soon 
to  be  trampled  down  by  the  feet  of  cattle  and 
horses.  So,  one  by  one,  many  of  the  old  pioneers 
leave  the  theatre  of  their  aimless  lives. 

The   Judge,  happy  at   heart,  bears  a  grave   face. 


LAGUNITAS.  315 

He  drives  into  Lagunitas.  Its  fields  looked  never 
so  fair.  Seated  in  the  mansion  house,  with  every 
luxury  spread  out  before  him,  his  delighted  eye 
rests  on  the  diamond  lake  gleaming  in  the  bosom 
of  the  fair  landscape.  It  already  seems  his 
own. 

He  settles  in  his  easy-chair  with  an  air  of  con 
scious  lordship.  Padre  Francisco,  studiously  polite, 
answers  every  deft  question.  He  bears  himself 
with  the  self-possession  of  a  man  merely  doing  his 
duty. 

Does  the  priest  know  of  the  hidden  gold  mines  ? 
No.  A  few  desultory  questions  prove  this.  "  Kain- 
tuck's  "  lips  are  sealed  forever  in  death.  The  secret 
is  safe. 

Padre  Francisco  does  not  delay  his  request  to  be 
allowed  to  depart.  As  he  sips  his  ripe  Mission 
claret,  he  tells  Judge  Hardin  of  the  desire  of  years 
to  return  to  France.  There  are  now  no  duties  here 
to  hold  him  longer.  He  desires  to  give  the  Judge 
such  family  papers  as  are  yet  in  his  charge.  He 
would  like  practical  advice  as  to  his  departure. 
For  he  has  grown  into  his  quiet  retreat  and  fears 
the  outer  world. 

With  due  gravity  the  lawyer  agrees  in  the  change. 
He  requests  the  padre  to  permit  him  to  write  his 
San  Francisco  agent  of  the  arrival  of  the  retiring 
missionary. 

"  If  you  will  allow  me,"  he  says,  "  my  agent  shall 
furnish  your  passage  to  Paris  and  arrange  for  all 
your  wants." 

Padre  Francisco  bows.  It  is,  after  all,  only  his 
due. 


316  LAGUNFTAS. 

"  When  will  you  wish  to  leave?"  queries  Hardin. 

"  To-morrow,  Judge.  My  little  affairs  are  in  readi 
ness." 

During  the  evening  the  light  of  the  good  priest 
glimmers  late  in  the  lonely  little  sacristy.  The 
chapel  bell  tolls  the  last  vespers,  for  long  years,  at 
Lagunitas. 

All  the  precious  family  papers  are  accepted  by 
the  Judge  when  the  padre  makes  ready  for  his 
departure.  The  priest,  with  faltering  voice,  says 
early  mass,  with  a  few  attendants.  Delivering  up 
the  keys  of  the  sacristy,  chapel,  and  his  home  to  the 
Judge,  he  quietly  shares  the  noonday  meal. 

If  there  is  sadness  in  his  heart  his  placid  face 
shows  it  not.  He  sits  in  the  lonely  room  replete 
with  memories  of  the  past. 

He  is  gone  for  a  half  hour,  after  the  wily  Judge 
lights  his  cigar,  to  contemplate  the  rich  domain 
which  shall  be  his,  from  the  porch  of  the  old  home. 
When  the  priest  returns,  it  is  from  the  graves  of  the 
loved  dead.  He  has  plucked  the  few  flowers  bloom 
ing  there.  They  are  in  his  hand. 

His  eyes  are  moist  with  the  silent  tears  of  one 
who  mourns  the  useless  work  of  long  years.  They 
have  been  full  of  sadness,  separation,  spiritual 
defeat,  and  untimely  death.  Even  Judge  Hardin, 
merciless  as  he  is,  feels  compassion  for  this  lonely 
man.  He  has  asked  nothing  of  him.  The  situation 
is  delicate. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Father  Francisco  ?  " 
says  Hardin,  with  some  real  feeling.  He  is  a  gentle 
man  "  in  modo."  The  priest  may  be  penniless.  He 
must  not  go  empty-handed. 


LAGUNITAS.  317 

"  Nothing,  thank  you,  save  to  accept  my  adieux 
and  my  fondest  blessing  for  the  little  Isabel." 

He  hands  Judge  Hardin  the  address  of  the  relig 
ious  house  to  which  he  will  retire  in  Paris. 

"  I  will  deliver  to  your  agent  the  other  papers 
and  certificates  of  the  family.  They  are  stored  for 
safety  at  the  Mission  Dolores  church." 

"  My  agent  will  have  orders  to  do  everything 
you  wish,"  remarks  the  Judge,  as  the  carriage 
drives  up  for  the  priest. 

Hardin  arises,  with  a  sudden  impulse.  The  mod 
est  pride  of  this  grave  old  French  gentleman  will 
not  be  rudely  intruded  on.  He  must  not,  he  shall 
not,  go  away  entirely  empty-handed.  The  lawyer 
returns  with  an  envelope,  and  hands  it  to  the  padre. 

"  From  the  colonel,"  he  says.  "It  is  an  order  for 
ten  thousand  dollars  upon  his  San  Francisco  bank 
ers." 

"  I  will  be  taken  care  of  by  those  who  sent  me 
here,"  simply  remarks  the  padre. 

Hardin  flushes. 

"  You  can  use  it,  father,  in  France,  for  the  poor, 
for  the  friendless  ;  you  will  find  some  worthy  ob 
jects." 

The  priest  bows  gravely,  and  presses  the  hand  of 
the  lawyer.  With  one  loving  look  around  the  old 
plaza,  the  sweeping  forest  arches,  and  the  rolling 
billows  of  green,  he  leaves  the  lonely  lake  gleaming 
amid  its  wooded  shores.  Its  beauty  is  untouched 
by  the  twenty  long  years  since  first  he  wandered  by 
its  shores.  A  Paradise  in  a  forest.  His  few  com 
municants  have  said  adieu.  There  is  nothing  to 
follow  him  but  the  incense-breathing  murmurs  of 


318  LAGUNITAS. 

the  forest  branches,  from  fragrant  pine  and  stately 
redwood,  sighing,  "  Go,  in  God's  name." 

Their  wind-wafted  voices  speak  to  him  of  the 
happy  past.  The  quiet,  saddened,  patient  padre 
trusts  himself  as  freely  to  his  unknown  future,  as  a 
child  in  its  mother's  cradling  arms.  In  his  simple 
creed,  "  God  is  everywhere." 

So  Francois  Ribaut  goes  in  peace  to  spend  a  few 
quiet  days  at  the  Mission  Dolores  church.  He  will 
then  follow  the  wild  ocean  waves  back  to  his  be 
loved  France.  "  Apres  vingt  ans."  A  month  sees 
him  Hearing  the  beloved  shores. 

Walking  the  deck,  he  thinks  often  of  that  orphan 
child  in  Europe.  He  remembers,  strangely,  that 
the  Judge  had  neglected  to  give  him  any  clew  to 
her  present  dwelling.  Ah  !  he  can  write.  Yes,  but 
will  he  be  answered  ?  Perhaps.  But  Judge  Har- 
din  is  a  cunning  old  lawyer. 

Disembarrassed  of  the  grave  priest,  Hardin  at 
once  sends  orders  for  his  prospectors.  A  new  man 
appears  to  superintend  the  grant. 

It  is  with  grim  satisfaction  he  reflects  that  the 
hand  of  fate  has  removed  every  obstacle  to  his  con 
trol.  His  fiery  energy  is  shown  by  the  rapidity 
with  which  hundreds  of  men  swarm  on  ditch  and 
flume.  They  are  working  at  mill  and  giant  water- 
wheels.  They  are  delving  and  tracing  the  fat  brown 
quartz,  gold  laden,  from  between  the  streaks  of 
rifted  basalt  and  porphyry. 

There  is  no  one  to  spy,  none  to  hinder  now. 
Before  the  straggling  veterans  of  Lee  and  Johnston 
wander  back  to  the  golden  West,  the  quartz  mine 
of  Lagunitas  yields  fabulous  returns. 


LAGUNITAS.  319 

The  legacy  of  "  Kaintuck  "  was  wonderful.  The 
golden  bars,  run  out  roughly  at  the  mine,  repre 
sented  to  Hardin  the  anchor  of  his  tottering  credit. 
They  are  the  basis  of  a  great  fortune,  and  the 
means  of  political  prestige. 

When  the  crash  came,  when  the  Southern  flags 
were  furled  in  the  awful  silence  of  defeat  and  de 
spair,  the  wily  lawyer,  safe  in  Lagunitas,  was  crown 
ing  his  golden  fortunes. 

Penniless,  broken  in  pride  and  war-worn,  the  sur 
vivors  of  the  men  whom  he  urged  into  the  toils  of 
secession,  returned  sadly  home,  scattering  aimlessly 
over  the  West.  Fools  of  fortune. 

Philip  Hardin,  satisfied  with  the  absence  of  the 
infant  heiress,  coldly  stood  aloof  from  the  ruin  of 
his  friends. 

As  the  months  ran  on,  accumulating  his  private 
deposits,  Judge  Hardin,  engrossed  in  his  affairs, 
grew  indifferent  even  to  the  fate  of  the  woman  he 
had  so  long  cherished.  His  unacknowledged  child 
is  naught  to  him. 

It  was  easy  to  keep  the  general  income  and  ex 
penses  of  the  ranch  nearly  even  in  amount. 

But  the  mine  was  a  daily  temptation  to  the  only 
man  who  knew  its  real  ownership.  It  must  be  his 
at  any  cost.  Time  must  show  the  way.  He  must 
have  a  title. 

Hardin  looked  far  into  the  future.  His  very  iso 
lation  and  inaction  was  a  proof  of  no  overt  treason. 
With  the  power  of  this  wealth  he  might,  when  a  few 
years  rolled  away,  reach  lofty  civic  honors.  Young 
at  sixty,  as  public  men  are  considered,  he  wonders, 
looking  over  the  superb  estate,  if  a  high  political 


320  LAGUNITAS. 

marriage  would  not  reopen  his  career.  In  enter 
taining  royally  at  San  Francisco  and  Sacramento, 
with  solid  and  substantial  claims  in  society,  he  may 
yet  be  able  to  place  his  name  first  in  the  annals  of 
the  coast.  A  senator.  Why  not?  Ambition  and 
avarice. 

With  prophetic  insight,  he  knows  that  sectional 
rancor  will  not  long  exist  in  California.  Not  really, 
in  the  war,  a  divided  community,  a  debatable  land, 
there  will  be  thousands  of  able,  hardy  men,  used  to 
excitement,  spreading  over  the  West.  It  is  a  land 
of  easy  and  liberal  opinion.  Business  and  the 
mine's  affairs  cause  him  to  visit  San  Francisco  fre 
quently.  He  reaches  out  for  all  men  as  his  friends. 
Seated  in  his  silent  parlors,  walking  moodily  through 
the  beautiful  rooms,  haunted  with  memories  of  the 
splendid  "  anonyma  "  whose  reign  is  yet  visible,  he 
dreams  of  his  wasted  past,  his  lonely  future.  Can 
he  repair  it  ?  Enveloped  in  smoke  wreaths,  from 
his  portico  he  surveys  the  thousand  twinkling  city 
lights  below.  He  is  careless  of  the  future  move 
ments  of  his  Parisian  goddess. 

It  cost  Philip  Hardin  no  heart-wrench  to  part 
with  voluptuous  Hortense  Duval.  Partners  in  a 
crime,  the  stain  of  "  French  Charlie's  "  blood  crim 
soned  their  guilty  past.  An  analytical,  cold,  all- 
mastering  mind,  he  had  never  listened  to  the  heart. 
He  supposed  Hortense  to  be  as  chilly  in  nature  as 
himself.  Yet  she  writes  but  seldom.  Taught  by 
his  profession  to  dread  silence  from  a  woman,  he 
casually  corresponds  with  several  trusted  friends  of 
the  Confederate  colony  in  France.  What  is  her 
mystery?  Madame  Natalie  de  Santos  is  now  a  per- 


LAGUNITAS.  321 

sonage.  The  replies  tell  him  of  her  real  progress  in 
the  glittering  ranks  of  the  capital,  and  her  singu 
larly  steady  life.  As  the  months  roll  on,  he  be 
comes  a  little  anxious.  She  is  far  too  cool  and  self- 
contained  to  suit  him.  He  wishes  women  to  lean 
on  him  and  to  work  his  will.  Does  she  intend  to  es 
tablish  a  thorough  position  abroad,  and  claim  some 
future  rights?  Has  she  views  of  a  'settlement? 
Who  knows  ? 

Hardin  sees  too  late,  that  in  the  control  of  both 
children,  and  her  knowledge  of  his  past,  she  is  now 
independent  of  his  mere  daily  influence.  The  mil 
lions  of  Lagunitas  mine  cannot  be  hidden.  If  he 
recalls  the  heiress,  will  "  Natalie  de  Santos"  be  as 
easily  controlled  as  "  Hortense  Duval  "? 

And  his  own  child,  what  of  her?  Hardin  dares 
not  tie  himself  up  by  acknowledging  her  claims.  If 
he  gives  a  large  sum  to  the  girl,  it  will  give  his 
"sultana  "  a  powerful  weapon  for  the  future. 

Is  she  watching  him  through  spies?  She  betrays 
no  anxiety  to  know  anything,  save  what  he  im 
parts.  He  dare  not  go  to  Paris,  for  fear  of  some 
public  scandal  and  a  rupture.  He  must  confirm 
his  position  there.  What  new  friends  has  she 
there  ? 

Ah  !  He  will  wait  and  make  a  final  settlement 
of  a  handsome  fortune  on  the  child.  He  will  pro 
vide  a  future  fixed  income  for  this  new  social  star, 
now,  at  any  rate,  dependent  on  her  obedience.  Re 
ports,  in  due  form,  accompany  the  occasional  com 
munications  forwarded  from  the  "  Sacred  Heart  " 
as  to' the  heiress.  This  must  all  be  left  to  time. 

With  a  deep  interest,  Hardin   sees   the   cessation 


322  LAGUNITAS. 

of  all  hostilities,  the  death  of  Lincoln,  the  disband- 
ment,  in  peace,  of  the  great  Union  armies. 

Bayonets  glitter  no  more  upon  the  crested  South 
ern  heights.  The  embers  of  the  watchfires  are  cold, 
gray  ashes  now.  The  lonely  bivouac  of  the  dead  is 
the  last  holding  of  the  foughten  fields. 

While  the  South  and  East  is  a  graveyard  or  in 
mourning,  strange  to  say,  only  a  general  relief  is 
felt  in  the  West.  The  great  issue  easily  drops  out 
of  sight.  There  are  here  no  local  questions,  no 
neighborhood  hatreds,  no  appealing  graves.  Happy 
California !  happy,  but  inglorious.  The  railway 
approaches  completion.  A  great  activity  of  scien 
tific  mining,  enterprises  of  scope  and  local  develop 
ment,  urge  the  Western  communities  to  action. 
The  bonanza  of  Lagunitas  gives  Judge  Hardin  even 
greater  local  prominence.  He  establishes  his  resi 
dence  at  the  old  home  in  the  Sierras. 

With  no  trusted  associates,  he  splits  and  divides 
the  funds  from  the  mine,  placing  them  in  varied 
depositories.  He  refrains  from  an  undue  appear 
ance  of  wealth  or  improvement  at  the  rancho  itself, 
No  one  knows  the  aggregates,  the  net  returns,  save 
himself.  Cunning  old  robber. 

To  identify  himself  with  the  interior  and  southern 
part  of  the  State,  he  enters  the  higher  body  of  the 
Legislature.  His  great  experience  and  unflagging 
hospitalities  make  him  at  once  a  leader. 

Identified  with  State  and  mining  interests,  he  en 
gages  public  attention.  He  ignores  all  contention, 
and  drops  the  question  of  the  Rebellion.  A  hearty 
welcome  from  one  and  all,  proves  that  his. command 
ing  talents  are  recognized. 


LAGUNITAS.  323 

There  are  no  relatives,  no  claims,  no  meddlesome 
legatees  to  question  the  disposition  of  Colonel 
Valois*  estate.  His  trusteeship  is  well  known,  and 
his  own  influence  is  pre-eminent  in  the  obscure  Dis 
trict  Court  having  control  of  the  legal  formalities. 

Hardin  is  keenly  watchful  of  all  returning  ex- 
Confederates  who  might  have  been  witnesses  of 
Maxime  Valois'  death.  They  do  not  appear.  His 
possession  is  unchallenged.  His  downy  couch 
grows  softer  daily. 

He  has  received  the  family  papers  left  by  the 
departing  padre.  They  are  the  baptismal  papers 
of  the  little  heiress.  The  last  vouchers. 

Hardin,  unmoved  by  fear,  untouched  by  sympa 
thy,  never  thinks  of  the  lowly  grave  before  the  ram 
parts  of  Atlanta.  The  man  lies  there,  who  appealed 
to  his  honor,  to  protect  the  orphaned  child,  but  he 
is  silent  in  death. 

He  decides  to  quietly  strip  the  rancho  of  its  great 
metallic  wealth.  He  will  hold  the  land  unimproved, 
to  be  a  showing  in  future  years  should  trouble  come 
as  to  the  settlement  of  the  estate. 

With  the  foresight  of  the  advocate,  Hardin  fears 
the  Valois  heirs  of  New  Orleans.  He  must  build 
up  his  defensive  works  in  that  quarter.  From  sev 
eral  returned  "  Colonels  "  and  "  Majors  "  he  hears 
of  the  death  of  old  Judge  Valois. 

The  line  of  the  family  is  extinct,  save  the  boy  in 
Paris,  who  has  been  lost  sight  of.  A  wandering 
artist. 

A  sudden  impulse  seizes  him.  He  likes  not  the 
ominous  silence  of  Natalie  as  to  important  matters. 

Selecting  one  of  his  law  clerks  (now  an  employee 


324  LAC.UNITAS. 

of  the  estate),  he  sends  him  to  Paris,  amply  supplied 
with  funds,  to  look  up  the  only  scion  left  of  the  old 
family.  He  charges  his  agent  to  spare  neither 
money  nor  time  in  the  quest.  A  full  and  detailed 
report  of.  Madame  de  Santos*  doings  and  social  sur 
roundings  is  also  ordered. 

"  Mingle  in  the  circles  of  travelling  Americans, 
spend  a  little  money,  and  find  out  what  you  can  of 
her  private  life,"  are  his  orders.  He  says  nothing  of 
the  heiress. 

In  the  gay  season  of  1866,  Hardin,  still  bent  on 
the  golden  quest  in  the  hills,  reads  with  some 
astonishment,  the  careful  "  precis  "  of  his  social  spy. 
He  writes: 

"  I  have  searched  Paris  all  over.  The  old  Con 
federate  circles  are  scattered  now.  They  are  out 
of  favor  at  the  imperial  court.  Even  Duke  Gwin, 
the  leader  of  our  people,  has  departed.  His  Duke 
dom  of  Sonora  has  gone  up  with  our  Confederacy. 
From  one  or  two  attaches  of  the  old  Confederate 
agency,  I  learned  that  the  boy  Armand  Valois  is 
now  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  old,  if  living.  He 
was  educated  in  one  of  the  best  schools  here,  and  is 
an  artist  by  choice.  When  his  father  died  he  was 
left  without  means.  I  understand  he  intended  to 
make  a  living  by  selling  sketches  or  copying  pictures. 
I  have  no  description  of  him.  There  are  thousands 
of  young  students  lost  in  this  maze.  I  might  walk 
over  him  in  the  Louvre  and  not  know  him.  If  you 
wish  me  to  advertise  in  the  journals  I  might  do  so." 

"  Fool,"  interjects  Hardin,  as  he  reads  this  under 
the  vines  at  Lagunitas.  "  I  don't  care  to  look  up 
an  heir  to  Lagunitas.  One  is  enough." 


LAGUNITAS.  325 

"  Now  for  Madame  de  Santos :  I  have  by  some 
effort  worked  into  the  circle  of  gayety,  where  I  have 
met  her.  She  is  royally  beautiful.  I  should  say  about 
thirty-five.  Her  position  is  fixed  as  an  '  e"le"garite.' 
Her  turnout  in  the  Bois  is  in  perfect  taste.  She 
goes  everywhere,  entertains  freely,  and,  if  rumor  is 
true,  is  very  rich.  She  receives  great  attention,  as 
they  say  she  is  guardian  of  a  fabulously  wealthy 
young  girl  at  one  of  the  convents  here. 

"  Madame  de  Santos  is  very  accomplished,  and 
speaks  Spanish,  French,  and  English  equally  well. 
I  have  made  some  progress  in  her  acquaintance,  but 
since,  by  accident,  she  learned  I  was  from  California 
she  has  been  quite  distant  with  me.  No  one 
knows  her  past,  here.  It  is  supposed  she  has  lived 
in  Mexico,  and  perhaps  California.  The  little 
feminine  'Monte  Cristo '  is  said  to  be  Spanish  or 
Mexican.  Madame  Santos'  reputation  is  absolutely 
unblemished.  In  all  the  circle  of  admirers  she 
meets,  she  favors  but  one.  Count  Ernesto  de  Villa 
Rocca,  an  Italian  nobleman,  is  quite  the  'ami  de 
maison.' 

"  I  have  not  seen  the  child,  save  at  a  distance. 
Madame  permits  no  one  to  meet  her.  She  only 
occasionally  drives  her  out,  and  invariably  alone 
with  herself. 

"  She  visits  the  convent  school  regularly.  She 
seems  to  be  a  vigilant  wide-awake  woman  of  prop 
erty.  She  goes  everywhere,  opera,  balls,  theatres, 
to  the  Tuileries.  She  is  popular  with  women 
of  the  best  set,  especially  the  French.  She  sees 
very  few  Americans.  She  is  supposed  to  be  South 
ern  in  her  sympathies.  Her  life  seems  to  be  as 


326  LAGUNITAS. 

clear  as  a  diamond.  She  has  apparently  no  feminine 
weaknesses.  If  there  is  a  sign  of  the  future,  it  is 
that  she  may  become  '  Countess  de  Villa  Rocca.' 
He  is  a  very  fine  fellow,  has  all  the  Italian  graces, 
and  has  been  in  the  '  Guardia  Nobile.'  He  is 
desperately  devoted  to  Madame,  and  to  do  him 
justice,  is  an  excellent  fellow,  as  Italian  counts 

g°- 

"  By  the  way,  I  met  old  Colonel  Joe  Woods  here. 
He  entertained  me  in  his  old  way.  He  showed  me 
the  sights.  He  has  become  very  rich,  and  operates 
in  New  York,  London,  and  Paris.  He  is  quite  a 
swell  here.  He  is  liberal  and  jolly.  Rather  a 
change  from  the  American  River  bar,  to  the  Jockey 
Club  at  Paris.  He  sends  you  remembrances. 

"  I  shall  wait  your  further  orders,  and  return  on 
telegraph.  I  cannot  fathom  the  household  mysteries 
of  the  Madame.  When  all  Paris  says  a  woman  is 
'  dead  square,'  we  need  not  probe  deeper.  There 
is  no  present  sign  of  her  marrying  Villa  Rocca,  but 
he  is  the  first  favorite." 

"  So,"  muses  the  veteran  intriguer  Hardin,  as  he 
selects  a  regalia,  "  my  lady  is  wary,  cautious,  and 
blameless.  Danger  signals  these.  I  must  watch 
this  Villa  Rocca.  Is  he  a  'cavalier  servente  '?  Can 
he  mean  mischief  ?  She  would  not  marry  him,  I 
know,"  he  murmurs. 

The  red  danger  signal's  flash  shows  to  Hardin, 
Marie  Berard  standing  by  the  side  of  Natalie  and 
the  two  girls.  Villa  Rocca  is  only  a  dark  shade  of 
the  background  as  yet. 

He  smiles  grimly. 

The  clicking  telegraph  key  invokes  the  mysterious 


LAGUNITAS.  327 

cable.     For  two  days  Judge  Philip  paces  his  room 

restless  wolf. 

His  prophetic  mind  projects  the  snares  which 
will  bring  them  all  to  his  feet.  He  will  buy  this 
soubrette's  secrets. 

A  French  maid's  greed  and  Punic  faith  can  be 
counted  on  always. 

With  trembling  fingers  he  tears  open  the  cipher 
reply  from  his  spy.  He  reads  with  flaming  eyes  : 

"  Have  seen  girl  ;  very  knowing.  Says  she  can 
tell  you  something  worth  one  hundred  thousand 
francs.  Will  not  talk  now.  Money  useless  at 
present.  She  wants  your  definite  instructions,  and 
says,  wait.  Cable  me  orders." 

Hardin  peers  through  the  grindstone,  and  evolves 
his  orders.  He  acts  with  Napoleon's  rapidity.  His 
answer  reads : 

"  Let  her  alone.  Tell  her  to  notify  Laroyne  & 
Co.,  16  Rue  Vivienne,  when  ready  to  sell  her  goods. 
Wrait  orders." 

Hardin  revolves  in  his  busy  brain  every  turn  of 
fortune's  wheel. 

Has  Natalie  an  intrigue  ? 

Is  she  already  secretly  married  ?  Is  the  heiress 
of  Lagunitas  dead  ? 

The  labors  of  his  waking  hours  and  the  brandy 
bottle  only  tell  him  of  an  unfaithful  woman's  vaga 
ries ;  a  greedy  lover's  p*3ts,  or  the  curiosity  of 
the  dark-eyed  maid,  whose  avarice  is  above  her 
fidelity. 

Bah  !  she  will  tattle.  No  woman  can  resist  it  ; 
they  all  talk. 

But  this  Italian  cur;  he  must  be  watched. 


328  LAGUNITAS. 

The  child  !  Pshaw  ;  she  is  a  girl  in  frocks.  But 
Villa  Rocca  is  a  needy  man  of  brains  and  nerve  ;  he 
must  be  foiled. 

Now,  what  is  her  game  ?  Hardin  must  acknowl 
edge  that  she  is  true  to  her  trust,  so  far. 

The  Judge  walks  over  to  his  telegraph  office,  for 
there  is  a  post,  telegraph,  and  quite  a  mining  set 
tlement  now  on  the  Lagunitas  grant. 

He  sends  a  cable  despatch  to  Paris  to  his  agent, 
briefly : 

"  Stop  work.  Report  acceptable.  Come  back. 
Take  your  time  leisurely,  East.  Well  pleased." 

He  does  not  want  any  misplaced  zeal  of  his  spy 
to  alarm  Natalie.  As  the  year  1866  rolls  on,  the 
regular  reports,  business  drafts  and  details  as  to 
Isabel  Valois  are  the  burden  of  the  correspondence. 
Natalie's  heart  is  silent.  Has  she  one  ?  She  has 
not  urged  him  to  come  back ;  she  has  not  pressed 
the  claims  of  her  child.  His  agent  returns  and 
amplifies  the  general  reports,  but  he  has  no  new 
facts. 

The  clerk  drops  into  his  usual  life.  He  is  not 
curious  as  to  the  Madame.  "  Some  collateral  busi 
ness  of  the  Judge,  probably,"  is  his  verdict. 

While  the  stamps  rattle  away  in  the  Lagunitas 
quartz  mills,  Judge  Hardin  takes  an  occasional  run 
to  the  city  by  the  bay.  The  legislative  season  ap 
proaches.  Senator  Hardin's  rooms  at  the  Golden 
Eagle  are  the  centre  of  political  power.  Railroads 
are  worming  their  way  into  politics.  Franchises  and 
charters  are  everywhere  sought.  Over  the  feasts 
served  by  Hardin's  colored  retainers,  he  cements 
friendships  across  old  party  lines. 


LAGUNITAS.  329 

As  Christmas  approaches  in  this  year,  the  Judge 
receives  a  letter  from  Natalie  de  Santos  which 
rouses  him  from  his  bed  of  roses.  He  steadies  his 
nerves  with  a  glass  of  the  best  cognac,  as  he  reads 
this  fond  epistle  : 

I  have  waited  for  you  to  refer  to  the  future  of  our 
child.  I  will  not  waste  words.  If  you  wished  to  make 
me  happy,  you  would  have,  before  now,  provided  for 
her.  I  do  not  speak  of  myself.  You  have  been  liberal 
enough  to  me.  I  am  keeping  up  the  position  you  indicated. 
My  child  is  now  old  enough  to  ask  meaning  questions,  to  be 
informed  of  her  place  in  the  world  and  to  be  educated  for  it. 
You  spoke  of  a  settlement  for  her.  If  anything  should  happen 
to  me,  what  would  be  her  future  ?  Isabel  will  be  of  course,  in 
the  future,  a  great  lady.  There  is  nothing  absolutely  my 
own.  I  am  dependent  on  you.  What  I  asked  you,  Philip,  you 
have  not  given  me  :  the  name  of  wife.  It  is  for  her,  not  for  my 
self,  I  asked  it.  I  have  made  myself  worthy  of  the  position  I 
would  hold.  You  know  our  past.  I  wish  absolutely  now,  to 
know  my  child's  destiny.  If  you  will  not  do  the  mother  jus 
tice,  what  will  you  do  for  the  child  ?  Whose  name  shall  she 
bear  ?  What  shall  she  have  ? 

Philip,  I  beg  you  to  act  in  these  matters  and  to  remember 
that,  if  I  once  was  Hortense  Duval,  I  now  am 

NATALIE  DE  SANTOS. 

Danger  signals.  Red  and  flaring  they  burn 
before  Hardin's  steady  eyes.  What  does  she  mean  ? 
Is  her  last  clause  a  threat?  Woman!  Perfidious 
woman  ! 

Hardin  tosses  on  a  weary  couch  several  nights 
before  he  can  frame  a  reply.  It  is  not  a  money 
question.  In  his  proud  position  now,  forming  alli 
ances  daily  with  the  new  leaders  of  the  State,  he 
could  not  stoop  to  marry  this  woman.  Never.  To 
give  the  child  a  block  sum  of  money  would  be  only 


330  LAGUNITAS. 

to  give  the  mother  more  power.  To  settle  an  in 
come  on  her  might  be  a  future  stain  on  his  name. 
Shall  he  buy  off  Natalie  de  Santos?  Does  she  want 
money  alone?  If  he  did  so,  would  not  Villa  Rocca 
marry  her  and  he  then  have  two  blackmailers  on  his 
hands?  To  whom  can  he  trust  Isabel  Valois  if  he 
breaks  with  Natalie?  The  girl  is  growing,  and  may 
ask  leading  questions.  She  must  be  kept  away. 
In  a  few  years  she  not  only  will  be  marriageable,  but 
at  eighteen  her  legal  property  must  be  turned  over. 

And  to  give  up  the  Lagunitas  quartz  lead?  Har- 
din's  brow  is  gloomy.  He  uses  days  for  a  decision. 
The  letter  makes  him  very  shaky  in  his  mind.  Is 
the  "  ex-Queen  of  the  El  Dorado"  ready  to  strike  a 
telling  blow  ? 

He  remembers  how  tiger-like  her  rage  when  she 
drew  her  dagger  over  the  hand  of  "  French  Charlie." 
She  can  strike  at  need,  but  what  will  be  her  weapon 
now? 

He  sets  the  devilish  enginery  of  his  brain  at  work. 
His  answer  to  Natalie  de  Santos  is  brief  but  final : 

"You  may  trust  my  honor.  I  shall  provide  a 
fund  as  soon  as  I  can,  to  be  invested  as  you  direct, 
either  in  your  name  or  the  other.  You  can  impart 
to  the  young  person  what  you  wish.  In  the  mean 
time  you  should  educate  her  as  a  lady.  If  you 
desire  an  additional  allowance,  write  me.  I  have 
many  burdens,  and  cannot  act  freely  now.  Trust 
me  yet  awhile." 

Philip  Hardin  feels  no  twinge  as  he  sea^s  this 
letter.  No  voice  from  the  grave  can  reach  him. 
No  proof  exists  in  Natalie  de  Santos'  hands  to 
verify  her  story. 


LAGUNITAS.  331 

As  for  Lagunitas,  and  orphan  Isabel,  he  pores 
over  every  paper  left  by  the  unsuspicious  Padre 
Francisco.  He  smiles  grimly.  It  was  a  missionary 
parish.  Its  records  have  been  all  turned  over  to 
him.  He  quietly  destroys  the  whole  mass  of  papers 
left  at  Lagunitas  by  the  priest.  As  for  the  mar 
riage  papers  of  her  parents  and  certificate  of  bap 
tism  of  Isabel,  he  conceals  them,  ready  for  destruc 
tion  at  a  moment's  notice. 

He  will  wait  till  the  seven  years  elapse  before 
filing  legal  proof  of  Maxime  Valois'  death. 

Securing  from  the  papers  of  the  old  mansion 
house,  materials,  old  in  appearance,  he  quietly 
writes  up  a  bill  of  sale  of  the  quartz  lead  known  as 
the  Lagunitas  mine,  to  secure  the  forty  thousand 
dollars  advanced  by  him  to  Maxime  Valois,  dated 
back  to  1861.  Days  of  practice  enable  him  to 
imitate  the  signature  of  Valois.  He  appends  the 
manual  witness  of  "  Kaintuck  "  and  "  Padre  Fran 
cisco."  They  are  gone  forever  ;  one  in  the  grave, 
one  in  a  cloister. 

This  paper  he  sends  quietly  to  record.  It  attracts 
no  attention.  "  Kaintuck  "  is  dead.  Valois  sleeps 
his  last  sleep.  From  a  lonely  cell  in  a  distant  French 
monastery,  Padre  Francisco  will  never  hear  of  this. 

As  for  Isabel  Valois,  he  has  a  darker  plot  than 
mere  theft  and  forgery,  for  the  future. 

The  years  to  come  will  strengthen  his  possession 
and  drown  out  all  possible  gossip. 

Natalie  de  Santos  must  hang  dependent  on  his 
bounty.  He  will  not  arm  her  with  weapons  against 
himself.  He  knows  she  will  not  return  to  face  him 
in  California.  His  power  there  is  too  great.  If  she 


332  LAGUNITAS. 

dares  to  marry  any  one,  her  hold  on  him  is  lost. 
She  must  lie  to  hide  her  past.  Hardin  smiles,  for 
he  counts  upon  a  woman's  vanity  and  love  of  lux 
ury.  The  veteran  lawyer  sums  up  the  situation  to 
himself.  She  is  powerless.  She  dares  not  talk. 
Time  softens  down  all  passions.  When  safe,  he 
will  give  the  child  some  funds,  but  very  discreetly. 

And  to  bury  the  memory  of  Maxime  Valois  for 
ever  is  his  task. 

Broadening  his  political  influence,  Hardin  moves 
on  to  public  prominence.  He  knows  well  he  can 
bribe  or  buy  judge  and  jury,  suppress  facts,  and  use 
the  golden  hammer  in  his  hands,  to  beat  down  any 
attack.  Gold,  blessed  gold  ! 

The  clattering  stamps  ring  out  merry  music  at 
Lagunitas  as  the  months  sweep  by. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

AN   OLD   PRIEST   AND   A   YOUNG  ARTIST. — THE 
CHANGELINGS. 

As  a  thoroughfare  of  all  nations,  nothing  excels 
the  matchless  Louvre.  Though  the  fatal  year  of 
1870  summons  the  legions  of  France  under  the 
last  of  the  Napoleons  to  defeat,  Paris,  queen  of 
cities,  has  yet  to  see  its  days  of  fire  and  flame.  The 
Prussians  thunder  at  its  gates.  It  is  u  Tantieme  ter 
rible."  Dissension  and  rapine  within.  The  mad 
wolves  of  the  Commune  are  yet  to  rage  over  the 
bloody  paths  of  the  German  conqueror. 

Yet   a   ceaseless   crowd  of  strangers,   a   polyglot 


LAGUNITAS.  333 

procession  of  all  ages  and  sexes,  pours  through 
these  wonderful  halls  of  art. 

In  the  sunny  afternoons  of  the  battle  year,  an  old 
French  priest  wanders  through  these  noble  galleries. 
Pale  and  bowed,  Francois  Ribaut  dreams  away  his 
waning  hours  among  the  priceless  relics  of  the  past. 
These  are  the  hours  of  release  from  rosary  and  bre 
viary.  The  ebb  and  flow  of  humanity,  the  labors  of 
the  copyists,  the  diverse  types  of  passing  human 
nature,  all  interest  the  padre. 

He  has  waited  in  vain  for  responses  to  his  fre 
quent  letters  to  Judge  Hardin.  Perhaps  the  Judge 
is  dead.  Death's  sickle  swings  unceasingly.  The 
little  heiress  may  have  returned  to  her  western 
native  land.  He  waits  and  marvels.  He  finally 
sends  a  last  letter  through  the  clergy  at  Mission 
Dolores.  To  this  he  receives  a  response  that  they 
are  told  the  young  lady  has  returned  to  America 
and  is  being  educated  in  the  Eastern  States. 

With  a  sigh  Fran£ois  Ribaut  abandons  all  hopes 
of  seeing  once  more  the  child  he  had  baptized,  the 
orphaned  daughter  of  his  friend.  She  is  now  far 
from  him.  He  feels  assured  he  will  never  cross  the 
wild  Atlantic  again. 

Worn  and  weary,  waiting  the  approach  of  old 
age,  he  yet  participates,  with  a  true  Frenchman's 
patriotism,  in  the  sorrows  of  "  l'anne"e  terrible." 
Nothing  brightens  the  future  !  Human  nature  it 
self  seems  giving  way. 

All  is  disaster.  Jacques  Bonhomme's  blood 
waters  in  vain  his  native  fields  Oh,  for  the  great 
Napoleon  !  Alas,  for  the  days  of  1805  ! 

As    he   wanders  among   the   pictures    he  makes 


334  LAGUN1TAS. 

friendly  acquaintance  with  rising  artist  and  humble 
imitator.  The  old  padre  is  everywhere  welcome. 
His  very  smile  is  a  benediction. 

He  pauses  one  day  at  the  easel  of  a  young  man 
who  is  copying  a  Murillo  Madonna.  Intent  upon  his 
work,  the  artist  politely  answers,  and  resumes  his 
task.  Spirited  and  artistic  in  execution,  the  copy 
betokens  a  rare  talent. 

Day  after  day,  on  his  visits,  the  padre  sees  the 
glowing  canvas  nearing  completion.  He  is  strangely 
attracted  to  the  resolute  young  artist. 

Dark-eyed  and  graceful,  the  young  painter  is  on 
the  threshold  of  manhood.  With  seemingly  few 
friends  or  acquaintances,  he  works  unremittingly. 
Padre  Francisco  learns  that  he  is  a  self-supporting 
art-student.  He  avows  frankly  that  art  copying 
brings  him  both  his  living  and  further  educa 
tion. 

Francois  Ribaut  is  anxious  to  know  why  this 
ardent  youth  toils,  when  his  fellows  are  in  the  field 
fighting  the  invaders.  He  is  astonished  when  the 
young  man  tells  him  he  is  an  American. 

"You  are  a  Frenchman  in  your  language  and 
bearing,"  says  the  priest  doubtfully. 

The  young  artist  laughs. 

"  I  was  educated  here,  mon  pere,  but  I  was  born 
in  Louisiana.  My  name  is  Armand  Valois." 

The  old  priest's  eyes  glisten. 

"  I  knew  an  American  named  Valois,  in  California. 
He  was  a  Louisianan  also." 

The  youth  drops  his  brush.  His  eyes  search 
the  padre's  face,  "  His  name?  "  he  eagerly  asks. 

"  He  was  called  Maxime  Valois,"  says  the  priest, 


LAGUNITAS.  335 

sadly.  "  He  went  into  the  Southern  war  and  was 
killed." 

The  artist  springs  from  his  seat.  Leading  the 
priest  to  a  recessed  window-seat,  he  says,  quietly : 

"  Mon  pere,  tell  me  of  him.  He  was  my  cousin, 
and  the  last  of  my  family.  I  am  now  the  only 
Valois." 

Padre  Francisco  overstays  his  hour  of  relaxation. 
For  the  artist  learns  of  the  heroic  death  of  his  gal 
lant  kinsman,  and  all  the  chronicles  of  Lagunitas. 

"  But  you  must  come  to  me.  I  must  see  you 
often  and  tell  you  more,"  concludes  the  good  old 
priest.  He  gives  Armand  his  residence,  a  religious 
establishment  near  Notre  Dame,  where  he  can  spend 
his  days  under  the  shadows  of  the  great  mystery- 
haunted  fane. 

Armand  tells  the  priest  his  slender  history. 

Left  penniless  by  his  aged  father's  death,  the 
whirlwind  of  the  Southern  war  swept  away  the  last 
of  his  property.  Old  family  friends,  scattered  and 
poor,  cannot  help  him.  He  has  been  his  own  master 
for  years.  His  simple  annals  are  soon  finished.  He 
tells  of  his  heart  comrade,  Raoul  Dauvray  (his  senior 
a  few  years),  now  fighting  in  the  Army  of  the  Loire. 
The  priest  learns  that  the  young  American  remained, 
to  be  a  son  in  the  household,  while  Raoul,  a  fellow 
art-student  of  past  years,  has  drawn  his  sword  for 
France. 

Agitated  by  the  discovery,  Padre  Francisco  prom 
ises  to  visit  the  young  man  soon.  It  seems  all  so 
strange.  A  new  romance  !  Truly  the  world  is  small 
after  all.  Is  it  destiny  or  chance? 

In  a  few  weeks,  Francois  Ribaut    is  the   beloved 


336  LAGUNITAS. 

of  that  little  circle,  where  Josephine  Dauvray  is  the 
household  ruler.  Priest  and  youth  are  friends  by 
the  memory  of  the  dead  soldier  of  the  Confederacy. 
Armand  writes  to  New  Orleans  and  obtains  full 
details  of  the  death,  in  the  hour  of  victory,  of  the 
gallant  Californian.  His  correspondent  says,  briefly, 
"  Colonel  Henry  Peyton,  who  succeeded  your  rela 
tive  in  command  of  the  regiment,  left  here  after  the 
war,  for  Mexico  or  South  America.  He  has  never 
been  heard  from.  He  is  the  one  man  who  could 
give  you  the  fullest  details  of  the  last  days  of  your 
kinsman — if  he  still  lives." 

Thundering  war  rolls  nearer  the  gates  of  Paris. 
The  horrible  days  of  approaching  siege  and  present 
danger,  added  to  the  gloom  of  the  national  humilia 
tion,  make  the  little  household  a  sad  one.  Padre 
Francisco  finds  a  handsome  invalid  officer  one  day 
at  the  artist's  home.  Raoul  Dauvray,  severely 
wounded,  is  destined  to  months  of  inaction.  There 
is  a  brother's  bond  between  the  two  younger  men. 
Padre  Francisco  lends  his  presence  to  cheer  the 
invalid.  Father  and  mother  are  busied  with  grow 
ing  cares,  for  the  siege  closes  in. 

The  public  galleries  are  now  all  closed.  The  days 
of  "  dech£ance  "  are  over.  France  is  struggling  out 
of  the  hands  of  tyranny  under  the  invaders'  scourge, 
into  the  nameless  horrors  of  the  Commune. 

It  is  impossible  to  get  away,  and  unsafe  to  stay. 
The  streets  are  filled  with  the  mad  unrest  of  the 
seething  population.  By  the  side  of  the  young  offi 
cer  of  the  Garde  Mobile,  Francois  Ribaut  ministers 
and  speeds  the  recovery  of  the  chafing  warrior. 
Thunder  of  guns  and  rattle  of  musketry  nearer, 


LAGUNITAS.  337 

daily,  bring  fresh  alarms.  Armand  Valois  has 
thrown  away  the  palette  and  is  at  last  on  the  ram 
parts  with  his  brother  artists,  fighting  for  France. 
The  boy  has  no  country,  for  his  blood  is  as  true  to 
the  Lost  Cause  as  the  gallant  cousin  who  laid  down 
his  life  at  Atlanta.  He  can  fight  for  France,  for  he 
feels  he  has  no  other  country  now.  It  has  been  his 
foster-mother. 

Bright  and  helpful,  demure  and  neat-handed,  is 
the  little  nurse,  who  is  the  life  of  the  household. 
Padre  Francisco  already  loves  the  child.  "  Louise 
Moreau  "  is  a  pretty,  quiet  little  maiden  of  twelve. 
Good  Josephine  Dauvray  has  told  the  priest  of  the 
coming  of  the  child.  He  listens  to  the  whole  story. 
He  sighs  to  think  of  some  dark  intrigue,  behind  the 
mask  of  this  poor  child's  humble  history.  He 
gravely  warns  Josephine  to  tell  him  all  the  details 
of  this  strange  affair.  The  motherly  care  and  pro 
tection  of  Josephine  has  rendered  the  shy  child 
happy.  She  knows  no  home  but  her  little  nest  with 
the  Dauvrays.  Her  education  is  suited  to  her 
modest  station  in  life.  The  substantial  payments 
and  furtive  visits  of  the  woman  who  is  responsible 
for  her,  tell  the  priest  there  is  here  a  mystery  to 
probe. 

Josephine  casts  down  her  eyes  when  Pere  Francois 
asks  her  sternly  if  she  has  not  traced  the  woman 
who  is  the  only  link  between  her  charge  and  the 
past.  Interest  against  duty. 

"  I  have  followed  her,  mon  pere,  but  I  do  not 
know  her  home.  She  comes  irregularly,  sometimes 
on  foot,  sometimes  in  a  carriage.  I  have  always 
lost  all  traces.  She  must  have  friends  here,  but  I 

22 


338  LAGUNITAS. 

cannot  find  them,  for  she  was  sent  to  us  by  others 
to  give  this  child  a  home." 

"This  must  be  looked  into,"  murmurs  the  priest. 

He  interrogates  the  soldier  and  also  Armand 
when  he  returns  from  the  lines,  as  the  siege  drags 
slowly  on.  They  know  nothing  save  the  fact  of 
the  child's  being  friendless.  It  may  be  right ;  it 
may  be  wrong.  "Voila  tout."  It's  the  way  of 
Paris. 

The  priest  is  much  disturbed  in  mind.  Since  his 
conversations  with  Armand  Valois  he  feels  a  vague 
unrest  in  his  heart  as  to  the  young  artist's  rights  in 
Lagunitas.  Does  none  of  that  great  estate  go  to 
Armand?  Is  this  equitable?  There  must  be  some 
share  of  the  domain,  which  would  legally  descend 
to  him.  In  the  days  of  the  convalescence  of  Raoul 
Dauvray,  the  two  friends  of  the  soldier-artist,  now 
waiting  the  orders  for  the  great  attack,  commune 
as  to  his  rights.  It  would  not  be  well  to  disturb 
him  with  false  hopes. 

The  gentle  old  priest  tells  Raoul  the  whole  story 
of  Lagunitas. 

"  Mon  pere,"  says  the  sculptor,  "  I  think  there  is 
something  wrong  with  the  affairs  of  that  estate. 
This  great  Judge  may  wish  you  out  of  the  way. 
He  may  wish  to  keep  Armand  out  of  his  rights. 
He  is  deceiving  you.  It  would  be  well,  when 
brighter  days  come,  that  Armand  should  go  to  the 
western  land  and  see  this  man." 

"  But  he  is  poor,"   Raoul  sighs,  "  and  he  cannot 

go-" 

"  If  he  writes  to  the  *  avocat,'  the  man  will  be  on 

his  guard." 


LAGUNITAS.  339 

Pere  Francois  takes  many  a  pinch  of  snuff.  He 
ponders  from  day  to  day.  When  the  fatal  days  of 
the  surrender  of  Paris  come,  Armand  returns  sad 
dened  and  war-worn,  but  safe.  The  victorious  col 
umns  of  the  great  German  "  imperator  "  march  under 
the  Arc  de  Triomphe.  Their  bayonets  shine  in  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne.  Thundering  cannon  at  Ver 
sailles  bellow  a  salute  to  the  new-crowned  Emperor 
of  Germany. 

The  days  of  the  long  siege  have  been  dreadful. 
Privation,  the  streams  of  wounded,  and  the  dull 
boom  of  the  guns  of  the  forts  are  sad  witnesses  of 
the  ruin  of  war. 

When  to  the  siege  and  the  shame  of  surrender, 
the  awful  scenes  of  the  Commune  are  added,  each 
day  has  a  new  trial.  Raoul  is  well  enough  to  be 
out,  now.  The  two  young  men  guard  the  house 
hold.  Aristide  Dauvray  is  gloomily  helpless  at  his 
fireside.  Armand  busies  himself  in  painting  and 
sketching.  Pere  Francois'  visits  are  furtive,  for  the 
priest's  frock  is  a  poor  safeguard  now.  Already 
the  blood  of  the  two  murdered  French  generals, 
Lecomte  and  Clement-Thomas,  cries  to  heaven  for 
vengeance  against  rash  mutiny. 

Raoul  Dauvray  foresees  the  downfall  of  the 
socialistic  mob.  After  consultation,  he  decides  to 
take  a  place  where  he  can  protect  the  little  house 
hold  when  the  walls  are  stormed.  He  escapes  by 
night  to  the  lines  of  the  Versaillese. 

For,  maddened  Paris  is  now  fighting  all  France. 
In  his  capacity  of  officer,  he  can  at  once  insure 
the  personal  safety  of  his  friends  when  the  city  is 
taken. 


34°  LAGUNITAS. 

The  red  flag  floats  on  the  Hotel  de  Ville.  The 
very  streets  are  unsafe.  Starvation  faces  the  circle 
around  Aristide  Dauvray's  hearth.  Mad  advent 
urers,  foolish  dreamers,  vain  "  bourgeois  "  generals, 
head  the  Communists.  Dombrowski,  Cluseret,  Flou- 
rens,  the  human  tigers  Ferre  and  Lullier,  Duval, 
Bergeret,  and  Eudes,  stalk  in  the  stolen  robes  of 
power.  Gloomy  nights  close  sad  and  dreary  days. 
From  Issy  and  Vanvres  huge  shells  curve  their  airy 
flight,  to  carry  havoc  from  French  guns  into  French 
ranks. 

Hell  seems  to  have  vomited  forth  its  scum.  Un 
canny  beings  lurk  at  the  corners.  Wild  with  cognac 
and  absinthe,  the  unruly  mob  commits  every  wanton 
act  which  unbridled  wickedness  can  suggest.  Good 
men  are  powerless,  and  women  exposed  to  every 
insult.  Public  trade  is  suspended.  Robbery  and 
official  pillage  increase.  The  creatures  of  a  day 
give  way  quickly  to  each  other.  Gallant  Rossell, 
who  passed  the  Prussian  lines  to  serve  France,  in 
dignantly  sheathes  his  sword.  He  is  neither  a 
Nero  nor  a  mountebank. 

Alas,  for  the  talented  youth  !  a  death  volley  from 
his  old  engineer  troops  awaits  him  at  the  Buttes 
de  Chaumont.  To  die  the  dishonored  death  of  a 
felon,  a  deserter! 

Alas,  for  France :  bright  of  face  and  hard  of 
heart!  Tigress  queen,  devouring  your  noblest 
children. 

While  Thiers  proclaims  the  law,  he  draws  around 
him  the  wreck  of  a  great  army.  A  bloody  victory 
over  demented  brethren  hangs  awful  laurels  on  the 
French  sword:  De  Gallifet,  Vinoy,  Ducrot,  L'Admi- 


LAGUNITAS.  341 

rault,  Cissey,  D'Aurelle  de  Palladines,  Besson  and 
Charrette  surround  the  unlucky  veteran,  Marshal 
McMahon,  Due  de  Magenta.  General  Le  Flo,  the 
Minister  of  War,  hurls  this  great  army  against  the 
two  hundred  and  fifty-two  battalions  of  National 
Guards  within  the  walls  of  Paris.  These  fools  have 
a  thousand  cannon. 

Down  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  the  fighting  pick 
ets  pour  hissing  lead  into  the  bosoms  of  brothers. 
From  the  heights  where  the  brutal  Prussian  sol 
diery  grinned  over  the  blackened  ruins  of  the  ill- 
starred  Empress  Eugenie's  palace  of  St.  Cloud,  the 
cannon  of  the  Versaillese  rain  shot  and  shell  on 
the  walls  of  defenceless  Paris. 

Pere  Francois  is  a  blessing  in  these  sad  and  weary 
days.  Clad  "  en  bourgeois,"  he  smuggles  in  food 
and  supplies.  He  cheers  the  half-distracted  Jose 
phine.  Armand  Valois  keeps  the  modest  little 
maiden  Louise,  fluttering  about  the  home  studio 
which  he  shares  with  Raoul.  Their  casts  and  models, 
poor  scanty  treasures,  make  their  modest  sanctum  a 
wonder  to  the  girl.  Her  life's  romance  unfolds. 
Art  and  dawning  love  move  her  placid  soul.  The 
days  of  wrangling  wear  away.  An  occasional 
smuggled  note  from  Raoul  bids  them  be  of  cheer. 
Once  or  twice,  the  face  of  Marie  B£rard  is  seen  at 
the  door  for  a  moment. 

Thrusting  a  packet  of  notes  in  Josephine's  hand, 
she  bids  her  guard  the  child  and  keep  her  within 
her  safe  shelter. 

The  disjointed  masses  of  Communists  wind  out 
on  April  3d  of  the  terrible  year  of  '71,  to  storm  the 
fortified  heights  held  by  the  Nationalists. 


342  LAGUNTTAS. 

Only  a  day  before,  at  Courbevoie,  t^heir  bayonets 
have  crossed  in  fight.  Mont  Valerien  now  show 
ers  shells  into  Paris.  Bergeret,  Duval,  and  Eudes 
lead  huge  masses  of  bloodthirsty  children  of  the 
red  flag,  into  a  battle  where  quickening  war  ap 
palls  the  timid  Louise.  It  makes  her  cling  close  to 
Armand.  The  human  family  seems  changed  into 
a  pack  of  ravening  wolves.  Pouring  back,  defeated 
and  dismayed,  the  Communists  rage  in  the  streets. 
The  grim  fortress  of  Mont  Valerien  has  scourged 
the  horde  of  Bergeret.  Duval's  column  flees  ;  its  de 
feated  leader  is  promptly  shot  by  the  merciless 
Vinoy.  Fierce  De  Gallifet  rages  on  the  field — his 
troopers  sabring  the  socialists  without  quarter. 

Flourens'  dishonored  body  lies,  riddled  with  bul 
lets,  on  a  dung  heap  at  St.  Cloud. 

Eudes  steals  away,  to  sneak  out  and  hide  his 
u  loot  "  in  foreign  lands.  Red  is  the  bloody  flail 
with  which  McMahon  thrashes  out  Communism. 

The  prisoned  family,  joined  by  Pere  Francois, 
now  a  fugitive,  day  by  day  shudder  at  the  bedlam 
antics  and  reign  of  blood  around  them. 

Saintly  Archbishop  Darboy  dies  under  the  bul 
lets  of  the  Communists.  His  pale  face  appeals  to 
God  for  mercy. 

Vengeance  is  yet  to  come.  The  clergy  are  now 
hunted  in  the  streets  !  Plunder  and  rapine  reign  ! 
Orgies  and  wild  wassail  hold  a  mocking  sway  in  the 
courts  of  death.  Unsexed  women,  liberated  thieves, 
and  bloodthirsty  tramps  prey  on  the  unwary,  the 
wounded,  or  the  feeble.  On  April  3Oth,  the  great 
fort  of  Issy  falls  into  the  hands  of  the  government. 
Blazing  shells  rain,  in  the  murky  night  air,  down  on 


LAGUNITAS.  343 

Paris.  Continuous  fighting  from  April  2d  until 
May  2 1st  makes  the  regions  of  Autcuil,  Neuilly,  and 
Point  du  Jour  a  wasted  ruin. 

Frenzied  fiends  drag  down  the  Colonne  Vendome 
where  the  great  Corsican  in  bronze  gazed  on  a 
scene  of  wanton  madness  never  equalled.  Not 
even  when  drunken  Nero  mocked  at  the  devasta 
tion  of  the  imperial  city  by  the  Tiber,  were  these 
horrors  rivalled. 

Down  the  beautiful  green  slopes  into  the  Bois  de 
Boulogne,  the  snaky  lines  of  sap  and  trench  bring 
the  octopus  daily  nearer  to  the  doomed  modern 
Babylon.  Flash  of  rifle  gun  and  crack  of  musketry 
re-echo  in  the  great  park.  It  is  now  shorn  of  its 
lovely  trees,  where  man  and  maid  so  lately  held  the 
trysts  of  love.  A  bloody  dew  rains  on  devoted 
Paris. 

A  fateful  Sunday  is  that  twenty-first  of  May 
when  the  red-mouthed  cannon  roar-  from  dawn  till 
dark.  At  eventide,  the  grim  regulars  bayonet  the 
last  defenders  of  the  redoubts  at  the  Point  du  Jour 
gates.  The  city  is  open  to  McMahon. 

The  lodgment  once  made,  a  two  nights'  bombard 
ment  adds  to  the  horrors  of  this  living  hell. 

On  the  twenty-third,  Montmartre's  bloody  sham 
bles  show  how  merciless  are  the  stormers.  Dorn- 
browski  lies  dead  beside  his  useless  guns.  All  hope 
is  lost.  Murder  and  pillage  reign  in  Paris. 

Behind  their  doors,  barricaded  with  the  heavier 
furniture,  the  family  of  Aristide  Dauvray  invoke 
the  mercy  of  God.  They  are  led  by  Pere  Francois, 
who  thinks  the  awful  Day  of  Judgment  may  be  near. 
Humanity  has  passed  its  limits.  Fiends  and  furies 


344  LAGUNITAS. 

are  the  men  and  women,  who,  crazed  with  drink, 
swarm  the  blood-stained  streets. 

In  their  lines,  far  outside,  the  stolid  Prussians 
joke  over  their  beer,  as  they  learn  of  the  wholesale 
murder  finishing  red  Bellona's  banquet.  "The 
French  are  all  crazy."  They  laugh. 

The  twenty-fourth  of  May  arrives.  Paris  is  aflame. 
Battle  unceasing,  storm  of  shell,  rattle  of  rifles,  and 
cannon  balls  skipping  down  the  Champs  Elysees 
mark  this  fatal  day.  A  deep  tide  of  human  blood 
flows  from  the  Madeleine  steps  to  the  Seine. 
The  river  is  now  filled  with  bodies.  Columns  of 
troops,  with  heavy  tramp  and  ringing  platoon  vol 
leys,  disperse  the  rallying  squads  of  rebels,  or 
storm  barricade  after  barricade.  Squadrons  of  cav 
alry  whirl  along,  and  cut  down  both  innocent  and 
guilty. 

After  three  awful  days  more,  the  six  thousand 
bodies  lying  among  the  tombs  of  Pere  la  Chaise  tell 
that  the  last  stronghold  of  the  Commune  has  been 
stormed..  Belleville  and  Buttes  de  Chaumont  are 
piled  with  hundreds  of  corpses.  The  grim  sergeants' 
squads  are  hunting  from  house  to  house,  bayonet 
ing  skulking  fugitives,  or  promptly  shooting  any 
persons  found  armed. 

The  noise  of  battle  slowly  sinks  away.  Flames 
and  smoke  soar  to  the  skies :  the  burnt  offering  now ; 
the  blood  offering  is  nearly  over. 

Thirty  superb  palaces  of  the  municipality  are  in 
flames.  Under  Notre  Dame's  sacred  roof,  blackened 
brands  and  flooded  petroleum  tell  of  the  human 
fiends'  visit. 

The  superb  ruins  of  the  Tuileries  show  what  im- 


LAGUNITAS.  345 

perial  France  has  been.  Its  flaming  debris  runs 
with  streams  of  gold,  silver,  and  melted  crystal. 

Banks,  museums,  and  palaces  have  been  despoiled. 
Boys  and  old  crones  trade  costly  jewels  in  the 
streets  for  bread  and  rum.  The  firing  parties  are 
sick  of  carnage. 

Killing  in  cold  blood  ceases  now,  from  sheer 
mechanical  fatigue. 

On  the  twenty-eighth,  a  loud  knocking  on  the 
door  of  the  house  brings  Aristide  Dauvray  to  the 
door.  A  brief  parley.  The  obstructions  are  cleared. 
Raoul  is  clasped  in  his  father's  arms.  Safe  at  last. 
Grim,  bloody,  powder-stained,  with  tattered  clothes, 
he  is  yet  unwounded.  A  steady  sergeant  and  half- 
dozen  men  are  quickly  posted  as  a  guard.  They 
can  breathe  once  more.  This  help  is  sadly  needed. 
In  a  darkened  room  above,  little  Louise  Moreau 
lies  in  pain  and  silence. 

Grave-faced  Pere  Fran£ois  is  the  skilful  nurse  and 
physician.  A  shell  fragment,  bursting  through  a 
window,  has  torn  her  tender,  childish  body. 

Raoul  rapidly  makes  Armand  and  his  father 
known  to  the  nearest  "  poste  de  garde."  He  ob 
tains  protection  for  them.  His  own  troops  are 
ordered  to  escort  drafts  of  the  swarming  prisoners 
to  the  Orangery  at  Versailles.  Already  several 
thousands  of  men,  women,  and  children,  of  all  grades, 
are  penned  within  the  storied  walls.  Here  the  prin 
cesses  of  France  sported,  before  that  other  great 
blood  frenzy,  the  Revolution,  seized  on  the  Paris 
ians. 

With  a  brief  rest,  he  tears  himself  away  from  a 
mother's  arms,  and  departs  for  the  closing  duties  of 


346  LAGUNITAS. 

the  second  siege  of  Paris.  The  drawing  in  of  the 
human  prey  completes  the  work. 

Safe  at  last !  Thank  God  !  The  family  are  able 
to  look  out  to  the  light  of  the  sun  again.  They  see 
the  glittering  stars  of  night  shine  calmly  down  on 
the  slaughter  house,  the  charnel  of  "  Paris  in- 
cendie."  The  silence  is  brooding.  It  seems  unfa 
miliar  after  months  of  siege,  and  battle's  awful 
music. 

In  a  few  days  the  benumbed  survivors  crawl 
around  the  streets.  Open  gates  enable  provisions  to 
reach  the  half-famished  dwellers  within  the  walls. 
Over  patched  bridges,  the  railways  pour  the  longed- 
for  supplies  into  Paris.  Fair  France  is  fruitful,  even 
in  her  year  of  God's  awful  vengeance  upon  the  rot 
ten  empire  of  u  Napoleon  the  Little." 

Pere  Frangois  lingers  by  the  bedside  of  the  suffer 
ing  girl.  She  moans  and  tosses  in  the  fever  of  her 
wound.  Her  mind  is  wandering. 

A  slender,  girlish  arm  wanders  out  of  the  coverlid 
often.  She  lies,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  eyes 
strangely  bright. 

Tenderly  replacing  the  innocent's  little  hands 
under  the  counterpane,  Fran£ois  Ribaut  starts  with 
sudden  surprise. 

He  fastens  his  gaze  eagerly  on  the  poor  girl's 
left  arm. 

Can  there  be  two  scars  like  this  ? 

The  sign  of  the  cross. 

He  is  amazed.  The  little  Spanish  girl,  from 
whose  baby  arm  he  extracted  a  giant  poisonous 
thorn,  bore  a  mark  like  this, — a  record  of  his  own 
surgery. 


LAGUNITAS.  347 

At  far  Lagunitas,  he  had  said,  playfully  to 
Dolores  Valois  : 

"  Your  little  one  will  never  forget  the  cross  ;  she 
will  bear  it  forever." 

For  the  incision  left  a  deep  mark  on  baby  Isabel 
Valois'  arm. 

The  old  priest  is  strangely  stirred.  He  has  a 
lightning  flash  of  suspicion.  This  girl  has  no  his 
tory  ;  no  family  ;  no  name.  Who  is  she  ? 

Yet  she  is  watched,  cared  for,  and,  even  in  the 
hours  of  danger,  money  is  provided  for  her.  Ah, 
he  will  protect  this  poor  lamb.  But  it  is  sheer 
madness  to  dream  of  her  being  his  lost  one.  True, 
her  age  is  that  of  the  missing  darling.  He  kneels 
by  the  bed  of  the  wounded  innocent,  and  softly 
quavers  a  little  old  Spanish  hymn.  It  is  a  memory 
of  his  Californian  days. 

Great  God  !  her  lips  are  moving  ;  her  right  hand 
feebly  marks  his  words,  and  as  he  bends  over 
the  sufferer,  he  hears  "  Santa  Maria,  Madre  de 
Dios." 

Francois  Ribaut  falls  on  his  knees  in  prayer.  This 
nameless  waif,  in  her  delirium,  is  faltering  words  of 
the  cradle  hymns,  the  baby  lispings  of  the  heiress 
of  Lagunitas. 

A  light  from  heaven  shines  upon  the  old  priest's 
brow. 

Is  it,  indeed,  the  heiress! 

He  can  hear  his  own  heart  beat. 

The  wearied,  hunted  priest  feels  the  breezes  from 
the  singing  pines  once  more  on  his  fevered  brow. 
Again  he  sees  the  soft  dark  eyes  of  Dolores  as  they 
close  in  death,  beautiful  as  the  last  glances  of  an 


348  LAGUNITAS. 

expiring  gazelle.  Her  dying  gaze  is  fixed  on  the 
crucifix  in  his  hand. 

"  I  will  watch  over  this  poor  lonely  child,"  mur- 
mufs  the  old  man,  as  he  throws  himself  on  his 
knees,  imploring  the  protection  of  the  Virgin 
Mother  mild. 

Sitting  by  the  little  sufferer,  softly  speaking  the 
language  of  her  babyhood,  the  padre  hears  word 
after  word,  uttered  by  the  girl  in  the  "patois"  of 
Alta  California. 

And  now  he  vows  himself  to  a  patient  vigil  over 
this  defenceless  one.  Silence,  discretion,  prudence. 
He  is  yet  a  priest. 

He  will  track  out  this  mysterious  guardian. 

In  a  week  or  so,  a  normal  condition  is  re-estab 
lished  in  conquered  Paris.  Though  the  yellow- 
stone  houses  are  pitted  with  the  scourge  of  ball  and 
mitraille,  the  streets  are  safe.  Humanity's  wrecks 
are  cleared  away.  Huge,  smoking  ruins  tell  of  the 
mad  barbarity  of  the  floods  of  released  criminals. 
The  gashed  and  torn  beauties  of  the  Bois  de  Bou 
logne;  battered  fortifications,  ruined  temples  of  Jus 
tice,  Art,  and  Commerce,  and  the  blood-splashed 
corridors  of  the  Madeleine  are  still  eloquent  of  an 
archy. 

The  reign  of  blood  is  over  at  last,  for,  in  heaps 
of  shattered  humanity,  the  corses  of  the  last  Com 
munists  are  lying  in  awful  silence  in  the  desecrated 
marble  wilderness  of  Pere  la  Chaise. 

The  heights  of  Montmartre  are  a  Golgotha.  Trade 
slowly  opens  its  doors.  The  curious  foreigner 
pokes,  a  human  raven,  over  the  scenes  of  carnage. 
Disjointed  household  organizations  rearrange  them- 


LAGUNITAS.  349 

selves.  The  railway  trains  once  more  run  regularly. 
Laughter,  clinking  of  glasses,  and  smirking  loiterers 
on  the  boulevards  testify  that  thoughtless,  heartless 
Paris  is  itself  once  more.  "  Vive  la  bagatelle." 

Francois  Ribaut  at  last  regains  his  home  of  relig 
ious  seclusion.  Louise  is  convalescent,  and  needs 
rest  and  quiet.  There  is  no  want  of  money  in  the 
Dauvray  household.  The  liberal  douceurs  of  Lou 
ise  Moreau's  mysterious  guardian,  furnish  all  pres 
ent  needs. 

"Thank  God!"  cries  Pere  Fran9ois,  when  he  re 
members  that  he  has  the  fund  intact,  which  he 
received  from  the  haughty  Hardin. 

He  can  follow  the  quest  of  justice.  He  has  the 
means  to  trace  the  clouded  history  of  this  child  of 
mystery.  A  nameless  girl  who  speaks  only  French, 
yet  in  her  wandering  dreams  recalls  the  Spanish 
cradle-hymns  of  lost  Isabel. 

Already  the  energy  of  the  vivacious  French  is  ap 
plied  to  the  care  of  what  is  left,  and  the  repair  of 
the  damages  of  the  reign  of  demons.  The  rebuild 
ing  of  their  loved  "  altars  of  Mammon "  begins. 
The  foreign  colony,  disturbed  like  a  flock  of  gulls 
on  a  lonely  rock,  flutters  back  as  soon  as  the  battle 
blast  is  over.  Aristide  Dauvray  finds  instant  pro 
motion  in  his  calling.  The  hiding  Communists  are 
hunted  down  and  swell  the  vast  crowd  of  wretches 
in  the  Orangery. 

Already,  all  tribunals  are  busy.  Deportation  or 
death  awaits  the  leaders  of  the  revolt. 

Raoul  Dauvray,  whose  regiment  is  returned  from 
its  fortnight's  guard  duty  at  Versailles,  is  permitted 
to  revisit  his  family.  Peace  now  signed — the  peace 


350  LAGUNITAS. 

of  disgrace — enables  the  decimated  Garde  Mobile 
to  be  disbanded.  In  a  few  weeks,  he  will  be  a 
sculptor  again.  A  soldier  no  more.  France  needs 
him  no  longer  in  the  field. 

By  the  family  Lares  and  Penates  the  young  sol 
dier  tells  of  the  awful  sights  of  Versailles.  The 
thousand  captured  cannon  of  the  Communists, 
splashed  with  human  blood,  the  wanton  ruin  of  the 
lovely  grounds  of  the  Bois,  dear  to  the  Parisian 
heart,  and  all  the  strange  scenes  of  the  gleaning  of 
the  fields  of  death  show  how  the  touch  of  anarchy 
has  seared  the  heart  of  France.  Raoul's  adventures 
are  a  nightly  recital. 

"  I  had  one  strange  adventure,"  says  the  hand 
some  soldier,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  cigar.  "  I 
was  on  guard  with  my  company  in  command  of  the 
main  gate  of  the  Orangery,  the  night  after  the  crush 
ing  of  these  devils  at  Montmartre.  The  field  officer 
of  the  day  was  away.  Among  other  prisoners 
brought  over,  to  be  turned  into  that  wild  human 
menagerie,  was  a  beautiful  woman,  richly  dressed. 
She  was  arrested  in  a  carriage,  escaping  from  the 
lines  with  a  young  girl.  Their  driver  was  also  ar 
rested.  He  was  detained  as  a  witness. 

"  She  had  not  been  searched,  but  was  sent 
over  for  special  examination.  She  was  in  agony. 
I  tried  to  pacify  her.  She  declared  she  was  an 
American,  and  begged  me  to  send  at  once  for  the 
officers  of  the  American  Legation.  It  was  very 
late.  The  best  I  could  do  was  to  give  her  a  room 
and  put  a  trusty  sergeant  in  charge.  I  sent  a  mes 
senger  instantly  to  the  American  Legation  with  a 
letter.  She  was  in  mortal  terror  of  her  life.  She 


LAGUNITAS.  35 1 

showed  me  a  portmanteau,  with  magnificent  jewels 
and  valuables.  I  calmed  her  terrified  child.  The 
lady  insisted  I  should  take  charge  of  her  jewels 
and  papers.  I  said  : 

" '  Madame,  I  do  not  know  you.' 

"  She  cried,  '  A  French  officer  is  always  a  gentle 
man.' 

"  In  the  morning  before  I  marched  off  guard, 
a  carnage  with  a  foreign  gentleman  and  one  of  the 
attache's  of  the  United  States  Embassy,  came  with 
a  special  order  from  General  Le  Flo  for  her  release. 
She  had  told  me  she  was  trying  to  get  out  of  Paris 
with  her  child,  who  had  been  in  a  convent.  It  was 
situated  in  the  midst  of  the  fighting  and  had  been 
cut  off.  Passing  many  fearful  risks,  she  was  finally 
arrested  as  *  suspicious/ 

"  She  persists  in  saying  I  saved  her  life.  She 
would  have  been  robbed,  truly,  in  that  mad  whirl 
of  human  devils  penned  up  there  under  the 
chassepots  of  the  guards  on  the  walls.  Oh  !  it  was 
horrible." 

The  young  soldier  paused. 

"She  thanked  me,  and  was  gracious  enough  not 
to  offer  me  a  reward.  I  am  bidden  to  call  on  her 
in  a  few  days,  as  soon  as  we  are  tranquil,  and  receive 
her  thanks. 

"  I  have  never  seen  such  beauty  in  woman,"  con 
tinues  the  officer. 

"  A  Venus  in  form  ;  a  daughter  of  the  South,  in 
complexion, — and  her  thrilling  eyes!  " 

Gentle  Louise  murmurs,  "And  the  young  lady?  " 

"  A  Peri  not  out  of  the  gates  of  Paradise,"  cries 
the  enthusiastic  artist. 


352  LAGUNITAS. 

"What  is  she?  who  is  she?"  cried  the  circle. 
Even  Pere  Frangois  lifted  his  head  in  curiosity. 
Raoul  threw  two  cards  on  the  table.  A  dainty  cor 
onet  with  the  words, 


97  Champs  Elysees. 


appeared  on  one  ;  the  other  read, 


Jockey  Club. 


"  And  you  are  going  to  call?"  said  Armand. 

"  Certainly,"  replies  Raoul.  "  I  told  the  lady  I 
was  an  artist.  She  wishes  to  give  me  a  commission 
for  a  bust  of  herself.  I  hope  she  will ;  I  want  to 
be  again  at  my  work.  I  am  tired  of  all  this  bru 
tality." 

That  looked-for  day  comes.  France  struggles  to 
her  feet,  and  loads  the  Teuton  with  gold.  He  re 
tires  sullenly  to  where  he  shows  his  grim  cannons, 


LAGUNITAS.  353 

domineering  the  lovely  valleys  of  Alsace  and  the 
fruitful  fields  of  Lorraine. 

Louise  Moreau  is  well  now.  The  visits  of  her  re 
sponsible  guardian  are  resumed.  Adroit  as  a  priest 
can  be,  Pere  Fran9ois  cannot  run  down  this  visitor. 
Too  sly  to  call  in  others,  too  proud  to  use  a  hire 
ling,  in  patience  the  priest  bides  his  time. 

Not  a  word  yet  to  the  fair  girl,  who  goes  singing 
now  around  the  house.  A  few  questions  prove  to 
Francois  Ribaut  that  the  girl  has  no  settled  memory 
of  her  past.  He  speaks,  in  her  presence,  the  lan 
guage  of  the  Spaniard.  No  sign  of  understanding. 
He  describes  his  old  home  in  the  hills  of  Mariposa. 
The  placid  child  never  raises  her  head  from  her  sew 
ing. 

Is  he  mistaken  ?  No ;  on  her  pretty  arm,  the 
crucial  star  still  lingers. 

"  How  did  you  get  that  mark,  my  child  ? "  he 
asks  placidly. 

"  I  know  not,  mon  pere  ;  it  has  been  there  since  I 
can  remember." 

The  girl  drops  her  eyes.  She  knows  there  is  a 
break  in  her  history.  The  earliest  thing  she  can 
remember  of  her  childhood  is  sailing — sailing  on 
sapphire  seas,  past  sculptured  hills.  Long  days 
spent,  gazing  on  the  lonely  sea-bird's  flight. 

The  priest  realizes  there  is  a  well-guarded  secret. 
The  regular  visitor  does  not  speak  to  the  child,  but 
<?/her. 

Pere  Francois  has  given  Josephine  his  orders,  but 
there  is  no  tripping  in  the  cold  business-like  actions 
of  the  woman  who  pays. 

Pere  Francois  is  determined  to  take  both  the 
23 


354  LAGUNITAS. 

young  men  into  his  confidence.  He  will  prevent 
any  removal  of  this  child,  without  the  legal  respon 
sibility  of  some  one.  If  they  should  take  the 
alarm  ?  How  could  he  stop  them  ?  The  law  !  But 
how  and  why? 

Raoul  Dauvray  is  in  high  spirits.  After  his 
regiment  is  disbanded,  he  is  not  slow  to  call  at  the 
splendid  residence  on  the  Champs  Elysees.  In 
truth,  he  goes  frequently. 

The  splendors  of  that  lovely  home,  "  Madame 
de  Santos'  "  gracious  reception,  and  a  royal  offer 
for  his  artistic  skill,  cause  him  to  feel  that  she  is 
indeed  a  good  fairy. 

A  modelling  room  in  the  splendid  residence  is 
assigned  him.  Count  Villa  Rocca,  who  has  all  an 
Italian's  love  of  the  arts,  lingers  near  Natalie  de 
Santos,  with  ill-concealed  jealousy  of  the  young 
sculptor.  To  be  handsome,  smooth,  talented,  jeal 
ous — all  this  is  Villa  Rocca's  "  metier."  He  is  a 
true  Italian. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

NEARING   EACH    OTHER. — THE   VALOIS    HEIRS. 

PARIS  is  a  human  hive.  Thousands  labor  to 
restore  its  beauty.  The  stream  of  life  ebbs  and 
flows  once  more  on  the  boulevards.  The  galleries 
reopen,  Armand  labors  in  the  Louvre.  He  fin 
ished  the  velvet-eyed  Madonna,  copied  after  Mu- 
rillo's  magic  hand.  He  chafes  under  Raoul's  laurels. 
The  boy  would  be  a  man.  Every  day  the  sculptor 
tells  of  the  home  of  the  wealthy  Spaniard.  The 


LAGUNITAS.  355 

girl  is  at  her  convent  again.  Raoul  meets  Ma 
dame  Natalie  "  en  ami  de  maison." 

He  tells  of  Count  Villa  Rocca's  wooing.  Mar 
riage  may  crown  the  devotion  of  the  courtly  lover. 

The  bust  in  marble  is  a  success.  Raoul  is  in  the 
flush  of  glory.  His  patroness  directs  him  to  ideal 
ize  for  her  "  Helen  of  Troy." 

Armand  selects  as  his  next  copy,  a  grand  inspira 
tion  of  womanly  beauty.  He,  too,  must  pluck  a 
laurel  wreath. 

Under  the  stress  of  emulation,  his  fingers  tremble 
in  nervous  ardor.  He  has  chosen  a  subject  which 
has  myriad  worshippers. 

Day  by  day,  admirers  recognize  the  true  spirit 
of  the  masterpiece. 

Throngs  surround  the  painter,  who  strains  his 
artistic  heart. 

A  voice  startles  him,  as  the  last  touches  are  being 
laid  on : 

"  Young  man,  will  you  sell  this  here  picture?  " 

"That  depends,"  rejoins  Armand.  His  use  of 
the  vernacular  charms  the  stranger. 

"  Have  you  set  a  price  ?  "  cries  the  visitor,  in 
rough  Western  English. 

"  I  have  not  as  yet,"  the  copyist  answers. 

He  surveys  the  speaker,  a  man  of  fifty  years, 
whose  dress  and  manner  speak  of  prosperity  in 
efflorescent  form. 

The  diamond  pin,  huge  watch-chain,  rich  jew 
elled  buttons,  and  gold-headed  cane,  prove  him  an 
American  Croesus. 

"  Well,  when  it's  done,  you  bring  it  to  my  hotel. 
Everyone  knows  me.  I  will  give  you  what  you  want 


356  LAGUNITAS. 

for  it.     It's  way  up  ;  better  than  the  original,"  says 
the  Argonaut,  with  a  leer  at  its  loveliness. 

He  drops  his  card  on   the  moist   canvas.     The 
nettled  artist  reads, 


't  " 

California. 


Grand  Hotel. 


on  the  imposing  pasteboard. 

The  good-humored  Woods  nods. 

"  Yes  sir,  that's  me.  Every  one  in  London,  Paris, 
and  New  York,  knows  Joe  Woods. 

"  Good  at  the  bank,"  he  chuckles. 

"  What's  your  name  ?  "  he  says  abruptly. 

Armand  rises  bowing,  and  handing  his  card  to 
the  stranger : 

"  Armand  Valois." 

Woods  whistles  a  resounding  call.  The  "  fla 
neurs  "  start  in  astonishment. 

"  Say  ;  you  speak  English.  By  heavens  !  you 
look  like  him.  Did  you  ever  know  a  Colonel  Valois, 
of  California?  "  He  gazes  at  the  boy  eagerly. 

"  I  never  met  him,  sir,  but  he  was  the  last  of  my 
family.  He  was  killed  in  the  Southern  war." 

"  Look  here,  young  man,  you  pack  up  them  there 
paint-brushes,  and  send  that  picture  down  to  my 
rooms.  You've  got  to  dine  with  me  to-night,  my 
boy.  I'll  give  you  a  dinner  to  open  your  eyes." 


LAGUNITAS.  357 

The  painter  really  opens  his  eyes  in  amazement. 

;' You  knew  my  relative  in  California?  " 

"  We  dug  this  gold  together,"  the  stranger  almost 
shouts,  as  he  taps  his  huge  watch-chain.  "  We 
were  old  pardners,"  he  says,  with  a  moistened  eye. 

There  was  a  huskiness  in  the  man's  voice,  not 
born  of  the  mellow  cognac  he  loved. 

No  ;  Joe  Woods  was  far  away  then,  in  the  days  of 
his  sturdy  youth.  He  was  swinging  the  pick  once 
more  on  the  bars  of  the  American  River,  and  listen 
ing  to  its  music  rippling  along  under  the  giant  pines 
of  California. 

The  young  painter's  form  brought  back  to 
11  Honest  Joe"  the  unreturning  brave,  the  chum  of 
his  happiest  days. 

Armand  murmurs,  "  Are  you  sure  you  wish  this 
picture  ?  " 

"  Dead  sure,  young  man.  You  let  me  run  this 
thing.  Now,  I  won't  take  '  no.'  You  just  get  a  car 
riage,  and  get  this  all  down  to  my  hotel.  You  can 
finish  it  there.  I've  got  to  go  down  to  my  bank, 
and  you  be  there  to  meet  me.  You'll  have  a  good 
dinner ;  you  bet  you  will.  God  !  what  a  man 
Valois  was.  Dead  and  gone,  poor  fellow  ! 

"  Now,  I'm  off !  don't  you  linger  now." 

He  strides  to  his  carriage,  followed  by  a  crowd 
of  "valets  de  place."  All  know  Joe  Woods,  the 
big-souled  mining  magnate.  He  always  leaves  a 
golden  trail. 

Armand  imagines  the  fairy  of  good  luck  has  set 
him  dreaming.  No  ;  it  is  all  true. 

He  packs  up  his  kit,  and  sends  for  a  coupe". 
Giving  orders  as  to  the  picture,  he  repairs  to  the 


35$  LAGUNITAS. 

home  of  the  Dauvrays  for  his  toilet.  He  tells  Pere 
Francois  of  his  good  fortune. 

"  Joe  Woods,  did  you  say,"  murmurs  the  priest. 
"  He  was  a  friend  of  Valois.  He  is  rich.  Tell  him 
I  remember  him.  He  knows  who  I  am.  I  would 
like  to  see  him." 

There  is  a  strange  light  in  Frangois  Ribaut's  eye. 
Here  is  a  friend  ;  perhaps,  an  ally.  He  must  think, 
must  think. 

The  old  priest  taps  his  snuff-box  uneasily. 

In  a  "cabinet  particulier  "  of  the  Grand  Hotel 
restaurant,  Woods  pours  out  to  the  young  man, 
stories  of  days  of  toil  and  danger;  lynching  scenes, 
gambling  rows,  "  shooting  scrapes,"  and  all  kaleido 
scopic  scenes  of  the  "  flush  days  of  the  Sacramento 
Valley." 

Armand  learns  his  cousin's  life  in  California.  He 
imparts  to  the  Colonel,  now  joyous  over  his  "  b£- 
cassine  aux  truffes  "  and  Chambertin,  the  meagre 
details  he  has  of  the  death  of  the  man  who  fell  in 
the  intoxicating  hour  of  victory  on  fierce  Hood's 
fiercest  field. 

Colonel  Joe  Woods  drains  his  glass  in  silence. 

"  My  boy,''  he  suddenly  says,  "  Valois  left  an 
enormous  estate;  don't  you  come  in  any 
where?  " 

"  I  never  knew  of  his  will,"  replies  Armand.  "  I 
want  you,  Colonel,  to  meet  my  old  friend  Pere 
Frangois,  who  was  the  priest  at  this  Lagunitas.  He 
tells  me,  a  Judge  Hardin  has  charge  of  all  the  prop 
erty." 

Joe  Woods  drops  the  knife  with  which  he  is  cut 
ting  the  tip  of  his  imperial  cigar. 


LAGUNITAS.  359 

"By  Heavens  !  If  that  old  wolf  has  got  his  claws 
on  it,  it's  a  long  fight.  I'll  see  your  Padre.  I  knew 
him.  Now,  my  boy,"  says  Colonel  Joe,  "  I've  got 
no  wife,  and  no  children,"  he  adds  proudly. 

"  I'll  take  you  over  to  California  with  me,  and  we'll 
see  old  Hardin.  I'm  no  lawyer,  but  you  ought  to 
hear  of  the  whole  details.  We'll  round  him  up. 
Let's  go  up  to  my  room  and  look  at  your  picture." 

Throwing  the  waiter  a  douceur  worthy  of  his 
financial  grade,  the  new  friends  retire  to  the  Colonel's 
rooms. 

Here  the  spoils  of  the  jeweler,  the  atelier,  and 
studio,  are  strangely  mingled.  Joe  Woods  buys  any 
thing  he  likes.  A  decanter  of  Bourbon,  a  box  of  the 
very  primest  Havanas,  and  a  business-like  revolver, 
lying  on  the  table,  indicate  his  free  and  easy  ways. 

Letters  in  heaps  prove  that  "  mon  brave  Colonel 
Woods"  is  even  known  to  the  pretty  free-lances  who 
fight  under  the  rosy  banner  of  Venus  Victrix. 

In  hearty  terms,  the  California!!  vents  his  enthu 
siasm. 

"By  the  way,  my  boy,  I  forgot  something."  He 
dashes  off  a  check  and  hands  it  to  the  young  painter. 

"  Tell  me  where  to  send  for  a  man  to  frame  this 
picture  in  good  shape,"  he  simply  says. 

He  looks  uneasily  at  the  young  man,  whose  senses 
fail  him  when  he  sees  that  the  check  is  for  five  thou 
sand  francs. 

"Is  that  all  right?"  he  says  cheerfully,  nudging 
Armand  in  the  ribs.  "  Cash  on  delivery,  you  know. 
I  want  another  by  and  by.  I'll  pick  out  a  picture  I 
want  copied.  I'm  going  to  build  me  a  bachelor 
ranch  on  Nob  Hill:  Ophir  Villa."  He  grins  over 


360  LAGUNITAS.  - 

some  pet  "  deal  "  in  his  favorite  Comstock.  Dulcet 
memories. 

For  Colonel  Joe  Woods  is  a  man  of  "  the  Golden 
Days  of  the  Pacific."  He  too  has  "  arrived." 

The  boy  murmurs  his  thanks.  "  Now  look  here, 
I've  got  to  run  over  to  the  Cafe  Anglais,  and  see 
some  men  from  the  West.  You  give  me  your  house 
number.  I'll  come  in  and  see  the  padre  to-morrow 
evening. 

"Stay;  you  had  better  come  and  fetch  me.  Take 
dinner  with  me  to-morrow,  and  we'll  drive  down  in  a 
hack." 

The  Colonel  slips  his  pistol  in  its  pocket,  winks, 
takes  a  pull  at  the  cocktail  of  the  American,  old 
Kentucky's  silver  stream,  and  grasps  his  gold- 
headed  club.  He  is  ready  now  to  meet  friend  or  foe. 

Joy  in  his  heart,  good  humor  on  his  face,  jingling 
a  few  "  twenties,"  which  he  carries  from  habit,  he 
grasps  a  handful  of  cigars,  and  pushes  the  happy 
boy  out  of  the  open  door. 

"  Oh  !  never  mind  that ;  I've  got  a  French  fellow 
sleeping  around  here  somewhere,"  he  cries,  as 
Armand  signals  the  sanctum  is  unlocked.  "  He  al 
ways  turns  up  if  any  one  but  himself  tries  to  steal 
anything.  He's  got  a  patent  on  that,"  laughs  the 
"  Crcesus  of  the  American  River." 

Armand  paints  no  stroke  the  next  day.  He  con 
fers  with  Pere  Frangois.  He  is  paralyzed  when  the 
cashier  of  the  "Credit  Lyonnais "  hands  him  five 
crisp  one-thousand-franc  notes.  Colonel  Joe  Woods' 
check  is  of  international  potency.  It  is  not,  then,  a 
mere  dream. 

When    the   jovial    Colonel   is   introduced   to    the 


LAGUNITAS.  361 

family  circle  he  is  at  home  in  ten  minutes.  His 
good  nature  carries  off  easily  his  halting  French. 
He  falls  into  sudden  friendship  with  the  young 
soldier-sculptor.  He  compliments  Madame  Jose 
phine.  He  pleases  the  modest  Louise,  and  is  at 
home  at  once  with  Padre  Francisco. 

After  a  friendly  chat,  he  says  resolutely : 

"  Now,  padre,  you  and  I  want  to  have  a  talk  over 
our  young  friend  here.  Let  us  go  up  to  his  room  a 
little." 

Seated  in  the  boy's  studio,  Woods  shows  the 
practical  sense  which  carried  him  to  the  front  in  the 
struggle  for  wealth. 

"  I  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  he  says.  "  I'm  going  out 
to  the  coast  in  a  month  or  so.  I'll  look  this  up  a 
little.  If  I  want  our  young  friend  here,  I'll  send 
you  a  cable,  and  you  can  start  him  out  to  me.  My 
banker  will  rig  him  out  in  good  style.  Just  as  well 
he  comes  under  another  name.  See?  Padre,  you 
take  a  ride  with  me  to-morrow.  We  will  talk  it  all 
over." 

The  Californian's  questions  and  sagacity  charm 
the  padre.  He  is  now  smoking  one  of  those  blessed 
"  Imperiales."  An  innocent  pleasure. 

They  rise  to  join  the  circle  below.  A  thought 
animates  the  priest. 

Yes,  he  will  confer  with  the  clear-headed  man  and 
tell  him  of  the  child  below,  whose  pathway  is  un 
guarded  by  a  parent's  love. 

Around  the  frugal  board  Colonel  Joe  enters  into 
the  family  spirit.  He  insists  on  having  Raoul  come 
to  him  for  a  conference  about  his  portraiture  in 
marble. 


362  LAGUNITAS. 

"  I  have  just  finished  a  bust  of  Madame  de  San 
tos,  the  beautiful  Mexican  lady,"  remarks  Raoul. 

Colonel  Joe  bounds  from  his  chair.  "  By  hokey, 
young  man,  you  are  a  bonanza.  Do  you  know 
her  well?"  he  eagerly  asks. 

The  sculptor  tells  how  he  saved  her  from  the 
bedlam  horrors  of  the  Orangery. 

The  miner  whistles.  "Well,  you  control  the  stock, 
I  should  say.  Now,  she's  the  very  woman,  Gwin, 
and  Erlanger,  and  old  Slidell,  and  a  whole  lot  told 
me  about.  I  want  you  to  take  me  up  there,"  he 
says. 

"  I  will  see  Madame  de  Santos  to-morrow,"  re 
marks  Raoul,  diplomatically. 

"  Tell  her  I'm  a  friend  of  her  Southern  friends. 
They're  scattered  now.  Most  of  them  busted,"  says 
Wood  calmly.  "  I  must  see  her.  See  here,  padre  ; 
we'll  do  the  thing  in  style.  You  go  and  call  with 
me,  and  keep  me  straight."  The  priest  assents. 

In  gayest  mood  the  Colonel  bids  Raoul  come  to 
him  for  this  most  fashionable  call.  Claiming  the 
padre  for  breakfast  and  the  ride  of  the  morrow, 
he  rattles  off  to  his  rooms,  leaving  an  astounded 
circle. 

Golden  claims  to  their  friendly  gratitude  bound 
them  together. 

Colonel  Joe  has  the  "  dejeuner  a  deux"  in  his 
rooms.  He  says,  "  More  homelike,  padre,  you 
know,"  ushering  the  priest  to  the  table.  Under  the 
influence  of  Chablis,  the  Californians  become  inti 
mate. 

Raotil  arrives  with  news  that  Madame  de  Santos 
will  be  pleased  to  have  the  gentlemen  call  next  day 


LAGUNITAS.  363 

in  the  afternoon.  After  an  arrangement  about  the 
bust,  the  horses,  champing  before  the  doors,  bear 
the  elders  to  the  Bois,  now  beginning  to  abandon 
its  battle-field  appearance. 

Long  is  their  conference  on  that  ride.  Pere  Fran- 
9013  is  thoughtful,  as  he  spends  his  evening  hour  at 
dominoes  with  Aristide  Dauvray.  His  eyes  stray 
to  fair  Louise,  busied  with  her  needle.  At  last,  he 
has  a  man  of  the  world  to  lean  on,  in  tracing  up 
this  child's  parentage.  Raoul  and  Armand  are 
deep  in  schemes  to  enrich  Joe's  queer  collection, 
the  nucleus  of  that  "  bachelor  ranch,"  "  Ophir 
Villa." 

In  all  the  bravery  of  diamonds  and  goldsmithing 
the  Westerner  descends  from  his  carriage,  at  the 
doors  of  Madame  de  Santos,  next  day. 

Pale-faced,  aristocratic  Pere  Francois  is  a  foil  to 
the  "  occidental  king."  Mind  and  matter. 

Waiting  for  the  Donna,  the  gentlemen  admire  her 
salon. 

Pictures,  objets  d'art,  dainty  bibelots,  show  the 
elegance  of  a  queen  of  the  "  monde." 

"  Beats  a  steamboat,"  murmurs  Colonel  Joe,  as 
the  goddess  enters  the  domain. 

There  is  every  grace  in  her  manner.  She  inquires 
as  to  mutual  friends  of  the  "  Southern  set."  Her 
praises  of  Raoul  are  justified  in  the  beautiful  bust, 
a  creation  of  loveliness,  on  its  Algerian  onyx 
pedestal. 

Colonel  Joe  Woods  is  enchanted.  He  wonders  if 
he  has  ever  seen  this  classic  face  before. 

"  I  drive  in  the  Bois,"  says  madame,  with  an  arch 
glance. 


364  LAGUNITAS. 

She  knows  the  Californian  is  a  feature  of  that  pa 
rade,  with  his  team.  Paris  rings  with  Colonel  Joe's 
exploits. 

"  No  poor  stock  for  me,"  is  Colonel  Joe's  motto. 

With  a  cunning  glance  in  his  eyes,  the  miner  asks  : 

"  Were  you  ever  in  California,  madame?" 

Her  lips  tremble  as  she  says,  "  Years  ago  I  was  in 
San  Francisco." 

Colonel  Joe  is  thoughtful.  His  glance  follows 
madame,  who  is  ringing  a  silver  bell. 

The  butler  bows. 

"  I  shall  not  drive  this  afternoon,'   she  says. 

With  graceful  hospitality,  she  charms  Pere  Fran- 
gois.  Chat  about  the  Church  and  France  follows. 

The  gentlemen  are  about  to  take  their  leave. 
Madame  de  Santos,  observing  that  Pere  Frangois 
speaks  Spanish  as  well  as  French,  invites  him  to 
call  again.  She  would  be  glad  to  consult  him  in 
spiritual  matters. 

Colonel  Joe  speaks  of  California,  and  asks  if  he 
may  be  of  any  service. 

"  I  have  no  interests  there,"  the  lady  replies  with 
constraint. 

Passing  into  the  hall,  Pere  Frangois  stands  amazed 
as  if  he  sees  a  ghost. 

"What's  the  matter,  padre?"  queries  Colonel  Joe 
as  they  enter  their  carriage. 

"  Did  you  see  that  maid  who  passed  us  as  we  left 
the  salon  ?  "  remarks  the  padre. 

"Yes,  and  a  good-looking  woman  too,"  says  the 
Californian. 

"That  woman  is  the  guardian  of  Louise  Moreau," 
the  padre  hastily  replies. 


LAGUNITAS.  365 

"  Look  here  !  What  are  you  telling  me?"  cries 
the  Colonel. 

"  There's  some  deviltry  up  !  I'm  sorry  I  must 
leave.  But  how  do  you  know?"  he  continues. 

The  priest  tells  him  about  artful  Josephine, 
whose  womanly  curiosity  has  been  piqued.  He  has 
seen  this  person  on  her  visits.  Useless  to  trace  her. 
Entering  an  arcade  or  some  great  shop,  she  has 
baffled  pursuit.  Through  the  Bois,  the  friends  com 
mune  over  this  mystery. 

"  I'll  fix  you  out,"  says  Woods,  with  a  shout. 
"  I've  got  a  fellow  here  who  watched  some  people 
for  me  on  a  mining  deal.  I'll  rip  that  household 
skeleton  all  to  pieces.  We'll  dissect  it !  " 

He  cries:  "Now,  padre,  I'm  a-going  to  back  you 
through  this  affair,"  as  they  sit  in  his  rooms  over  a 
good  dinner.  Colonel  Joe  has  sent  all  his  people 
away.  He  wants  no  listeners.  As  he  pours  the 
Cliquot,  he  says,  "  You  give  me  a  week  and  Til  post 
you.  Listen  to  me.  You  can  see  there  is  an  object 
in  hiding  that  child.  Keep  her  safely  guarded. 
Show  no  suspicion.  You  make  friends  with  the 
lady.  Leave  the  maid  dead  alone.  Take  it  easy, 
padre ;  we'll  get  them.  I'll  tell  my  bankers  to  back 
you  up.  I'll  take  you  down  ;  I'll  make  you  solid. 

"All  I  fear  is  they  will  get  frightened  and  take 
her  off.  You  people  have  got  to  watch  her.  They'll 
run  her  off,  if  they  suspect.  Poor  little  kid. 

u  It's  strange,"  says  the  miner;  "they  could  have 
put  this  poor  little  one  out  of  the  way  easy.  But 
they  don't  want  that.  Want  her  alive,  but  kept  on 
the  quiet.  I  suppose  there's  somebody  else,"  he 
mutters. 


366  LAGUNITAS. 

"  By  Jove!  that's  it.  There's  property  or  money 
hanging  on  her  existence.  Now,  padre,  I'll  talk 
plain.  You  priests  are  pretty  sly.  You  write  your 
people  about  this  child.  I'll  see  you  have  money. 
My  banker  will  work  the  whole  municipality  of 
Paris  for  you. 

"  That's  it ;  we've  got  it."  The  miner's  fist  makes 
the  glasses  rattle,  as  he  quaffs  his  wine. 

"Don't  lose  sight  of  her  a  minute.  Don't  show 
your  hand." 

The  priest  rolls  home  in  Joe's  carriage.  He 
busies  himself  the  next  days  with  going  to  the  bank, 
conferring  with  his  fellows,  and  awaking  the  vigil 
ance  of  Josephine. 

It  is  left  to  the  priest  and  his  ally  from  the  ranks 
of  "  Mammon "  to  follow  these  tangled  threads. 
The  younger  men  know  nothing,  save  the  injunc 
tions  to  Josephine. 

Ten  days  after  this  visit,  Colonel  Joe,  who  has 
run  over  to  London,  where  he  closed  some  financial 
matters  of  note,  sends  post-haste  to  Pere  Francois 
this  note : 

"  Come  up,  padre.  I've  got  a  whole  history  for 
you.  It  will  make  your  eyes  open.  I  want  you  to 
talk  to  the  detective." 

Even  the  Californian's  horses  are  not  quick  enough 
to-day  for  the  priest. 

Ushered  in,  he  finds  Colonel  Joe  on  the  broad  grin. 

Accepting  a  cigar,  his  host  cries,  "  We've  struck  it 
rich.  A  mare's  nest.  Now,  Vimont,  give  my  friend 
your  report." 

Joe  Woods  smokes  steadily,  as  Jules  Vimont 
reads  from  his  note-book: 


LAGUNITAS.  367 

"  Madame  Natalie  de  Santos  arrived  in  Paris  with 
two  young  girls,  one  of  whom  is  at  the  Sacre-Cceur 
under  the  name  of  Isabel  Valois ;  the  other  is  the 
child  who  is  visited  by  Marie  Berard,  her  maid. 
She  is  called  Louise  Moreau." 

Pere  Francois  listens  to  this  recital.  The  detec 
tive  gives  a  description  of  the  beautiful  stranger, 
and  at  length. 

Joe  interrogates.  The  priest  gravely  nods  until 
the  recital  is  finished.  Vimont  shuts  his  book  with 
a  snap  and  disappears,  at  a  nod  from  the  miner. 
The  friends  are  alone. 

Pere  Frangois  is  silent.  His  face  is  pale.  Joe  is 
alarmed  at  his  feeling.  Forcing  a  draught  of  Bour 
bon  on  the  padre,  Joe  cries,  "  What  is  the  mat 
ter?" 

"  I  see  it  now,"  murmurs  the  priest.  "  The  chil 
dren  have  been  changed.  For  what  object?" 

He  tells  Woods  of  the  proofs  gained  in  days  of 
Louise's  illness. 

"Your  little  friend  is  the  heiress  of  Lagunitas?" 
Woods  asks. 

"I  am  sure  of  it.     We  must  prove  it." 

"  Leave  that  to  me,"  bursts  out  Joe,  striding  the 
room,  puffing  at  his  cigar. 

"  How  will  you  do  it  ?  "  falters  the  priest. 

"  I  will  find  the  father  of  the  other  child,"  Joe 
yells.  "  I  am  going  to  California.  I  will  root  up 
this  business.  I  have  a  copy  of  Vimont's  notes. 
You  write  me  all  you  remember  of  this  history. 
Meanwhile,  not  a  word.  No  change  in  your  game. 
You  make  foothold  in  that  house  on  the  Elyse"es. 

"  There  was  no  railroad  when  these  people  came 


0?  THS^^ 


368  LAGUNITAS. 

here.  I  will  get  the  lists  of  passengers  and  steamer 
reports.  I  have  friends  in  the  Pacific  Mail." 

Joe  warms  up.  "  Yes,  sir.  I'll  find  who  is  respon 
sible  for  that  extra  child.  The  man  who  is,  is  the 
party  putting  up  for  all  this  splendor  here.  I  think 
if  I  can  stop  the  money  supplies,  we  can  break  their 
lines.  I  think  my  old  *  companero,'  Judge  Hardin, 
is  the  head-devil  of  this  deal. 

"  It's  just  like  him. 

"  Now,  padre,  I  have  got  something  to  amuse 
me.  You  do  just  as  I  tell  you,  and  we'll  checkmate 
this  quiet  game. 

"  We  are  not  on  the  bedrock  yet,  but  we've 
struck  the  vein.  Don't  you  say  a  word  to  a  living 
soul  here. 

"  I'll  have  that  maid  watched,  and  tell  Vimont  to 
give  you  all  the  particulars  of  her  cuttings-up. 

"  She's  not  the  master-mind  of  this.  She  has  never 
been  to  the  convent.  There's  a  keynote  in  keeping 
these  girls  apart.  I  think  our  handsome  friend, 
Madame  de  Santos,  is  playing  a  sharp  game."  In 
two  days  he  has  vanished. 

In  his  voyage  to  New  York  and  to  the  Pacific;  Joe 
thinks  over  every  turn  of  this  intrigue.  If  Hardin 
tries  to  hide  Armand  Valois'  fortune,  why  should 
he  dabble  in  the  mystery  of  these  girls? 

Crossing  the  plains,  where  the  buffalo  still  roam 
by  thousands,  Woods  meets  in  the  smoking-room 
many  old  friends.  A  soldierly-looking  traveller  at 
tracts  his  attention.  The  division  superintendent 
makes  Colonel  Peyton  and  Colonel  Woods  ac 
quainted.  Their  friendship  ripens  rapidly.  Joe 
Woods,  a  Southern  sympathizer,  has  gained  his 


LAGUNITAS.  369 

colonelcy  by  the  consent  of  his  Western  friends.  It 
is  a  brevet  of  financial  importance.  Learning  his 
friend  is  a  veteran  of  the  "  Stars  and  Bars,"  and  a 
Virginian,  the  Westerner  pledges  many  a  cup  to 
their  common  cause.  To  the  battle-torn  flag  of  the 
Confederacy,  now  furled  forever. 

As  the  train  rattles  down  Echo  Canyon,  Peyton 
tells  of  the  hopes  once  held  of  a  rising  in  the  West. 

Woods  is  interested.  When  Peyton  mentions 
"  Maxima  Valois,"  the  Croesus  grasps  his  hand  con 
vulsively. 

<:  Did  you  serve  with  him?"  Joe  queries  with 
eagerness.  "  He  was  my  pardnerand  chum." 

"  He  died  in  my  arms  at  Peachtree  Creek,"  an 
swers  Peyton. 

Joe  embraces  Peyton.  "  He  was  a  game  man, 
Colonel." 

Peyton  answers  :  "  The  bravest  man  I  ever  saw. 
I  often  think  of  him,  in  the  whirl  of  that  struggle 
for  De  Gress's  batten'.  Lying  on  the  sod  with  the 
Yankee  flag  clutched  in  his  hand,  its  silk  was  fresh- 
striped  with  his  own  heart's  blood.  The  last  sound 
he  heard  was  the  roar  of  those  guns,  as  we  turned 
them  on  the  enemy." 

"  God  !  What  a  fight  for  that  battery !  "  The 
Californian  listens,  with  bated  breath,  to  the  Virgin 
ian.  He  tells  him  of  the  youthful  quest  for  gold. 

The  war  brotherhood  of  the  two  passes  in  sad  re 
view.  Peyton  tells  him  of  the  night  before  Valois' 
death. 

Joe  Woods'  eyes  glisten.     He  cries  over  the  re 
cital.     An   eager  question    rises    to    his   lips.       He 
chokes  it  down. 
24 


3/0  LAGUNITAS. 

As  Peyton  finishes,  Woods  remarks  : 

"  Peyton,  I  am  going  to  get  off  at  Reno,  and  go 
to  Virginia  City.  You  come  with  me.  I  want  to 
know  about  Valois'  last  days." 

Peyton  is  glad  to  have  a  mentor  in  the  West.  He 
has  gained  neither  peace  nor  fortune  in  wandering 
under  the  fringing  palms  of  Latin  America. 

Toiling  up  the  Sierra  Nevada,  Woods  shows  Pey 
ton  where  Valois  won  his  golden  spurs  as  a  path 
finder. 

"  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,  Peyton,"  says 
Joe.  "  I  want  to  hunt  up  that  boy  in  Paris.  I'm 
no  lawyer,  but  I  think  he  ought  to  have  some  of 
this  great  estate.  Now,  Hardin  is  a  devil  for  sly 
ness.  I  want  you  to  keep  silent  as  to  Valois  till  I 
give  you  the  word.  I'll  see  you  into  some  gpod 
things  here.  It  may  take  time  to  work  my  game. 
I  don't  want  Hardin  to  suspect.  He's  an  attorney 
of  the  bank.  He  counsels  the  railroad.  He  would 
spy  out  every  move." 

"  By  the  way,  Colonel  Woods,"  Peyton  replies, 
"I  have  the  papers  yet  which  were  found  on  Valois' 
body.  I  sealed  them  up.  They  are  stained  with 
his  blood.  I  could  not  trust  them  to  chances.  I 
intended  to  return  them  to  his  child.  I  have  never 
examined  them." 

Joe  bounds  from  his  seat.  l'  A  ten-strike  !  Now, 
you  take  a  look  at  them  when  we  reach  '  Frisco.' 
If  there  are  any  to  throw  a  light  on  his  affairs,  tell 
me.  Don't  breathe  a  word  till  I  tell  you.  I  will 
probe  the  matter.  I'll  break  Hardin's  lines,  you 
bet."  The  speculator  dares  not  tell  Peyton  his 
hopes,  his  fears,  his  suspicions. 


LAGUNITAS.  3/1 

San  Francisco  is  reached.  Peyton  has  "  done  the 
Comstock."  He  is  tired  of  drifts,  gallery,  ma 
chinery,  miners,  and  the  "  laissez-aller"  of  Nevada 
hospitality.  The  comfort  of  Colonel  Joe's  bachelor 
establishment  places  the  stranger  in  touch  with  the 
occidental  city. 

Received  with  open  arms  by  the  Confederate 
sympathizers,  Peyton  is  soon  "  on  the  stock  mar 
ket."  He  little  dreams  that  Joe  has  given  one  of 
his  many  brokers  word  to  carry  a  stiff  account  for 
the  Virginian.  Pay  him  all  gains,  and  charge  all 
losses  to  the  "  Woods  account." 

Peyton  is  thrilled  with  the  stock  gambling  of 
California  Street.  Every  one  is  mad.  Servants, 
lawyers,  hod  carriers,  merchants,  old  maids,  widows, 
mechanics,  sly  wives,  thieving  clerks,  and  the  "  demi 
monde,"  all  throng  to  the  portals  of  the  "  Big 
Board."  It  is  a  money-mania.  Beauty,  old  age, 
callow  boyhood,  fading  manhood,  all  chase  the  bub 
ble  values  of  the  "  kiting  stocks." 

From  session  to  session,  the  volatile  heart  of  San 
Francisco  throbs  responsive  to  the  sliding  values  of 
these  paper  "  stock  certificates." 

Woods  has  departed  for  a  fortnight,  to  look  at  a 
new  ranch  in  San  Joaquin.  He  does  not  tell  Pey 
ton  that  he  lingers  around  Lagunitas.  He  knows 
Hardin  is  at  San  Francisco.  A  few  hours  at  the 
county  seat.  A  talk  with  his  lawyer  in  Stockton 
completes  Joe's  investigations.  No  will  of  Maxime 
Valois  has  ever  been  filed.  The  estate  is  held  by 
Hardin  as  administrator  after  "  temporary  letters  " 
have  been  renewed.  There  are  no  accounts  or  set 
tlements.  Joe  smiles  when  he  finds  that  Philip 


372  LAGUNITAS. 

Hardin  is  guardian  of  one  "  Isabel  Valois,"  a  minor. 
The  estate  of  this  child  is  nominal.  There  is  no 
inventory  of  Maxime  Valois'  estate  on  file.  County 
courts  and  officials  are  not  likely  to  hurry  Judge 
Philip  Hardin. 

On  the  train  to  San  Francisco,  Woods  smokes 
very  strong  cigars  while  pondering  if  he  shall  hire  a 
lawyer  in  town. 

"  If  I  could  only  choose  one  who  would  stay 
bought  when  I  bought  him,  I'd  give  a  long  price," 
Joe  growls.  With  recourse  to  his  great  "  breast 
pocket  code,"  the  Missourian  runs  over  man  after 
man,  in  his  mind.  A  frown  gathers  on  his  brow. 

"  If  I  strike  a  bonanza,  I  may  have  to  call  in  some 
counsel.  But  I  think  I'll  have  a  few  words  with 
my  friend  Philip  Hardin." 

Woods  is  the  perfection  of  rosy  good-humor, 
when  he  drags  Hardin  away  from  his  office  next  day 
to  a  cosey  lunch  at  the  "  Mint." 

"  I  want  to  consult  you,  Judge,"  is  his  excuse. 
Hardin,  now  counsel  for  warring  giants  of  finance, 
listens  over  the  terrapin  and  birds,  to  several  legal 
posers  regarding  Joe's  affairs.  Woods  has  wide 
influence.  He  is  a  powerful  friend  to  placate. 
Hardin,  easy  now  in  money  matters,  looks  forward 
to  the  United  States  Senate.  Woods  can  help. 
He  is  a  tower  of  strength. 

"They  will  need  a  senator  sometime,  who  knows 
law,  not  one  of  those  obscure  mud-heads"  says  Har 
din  to  himself. 

Colonel  Joe  finishes  his  Larose.  He  takes  a  stiff 
brandy  with  his  cigar,  and  carelessly  remarks  : 

"  How's  your  mine,  Judge  ?  " 


LAGUNITAS.  3/3 

"  Doing  well,  doing  well,"  is  the  reply. 

"  Better  let  me  put  it  on  the  market  for  you. 
You  are  getting  old  for  that  sort  of  bother." 

"  Woods,  I  will  see  you  by  and  by.  I  am  trustee 
for  the  Valois  estate.  He  left  no  will,  and  I  can't 
give  a  title  to  the  ranch  till  the  time  for  minor  heirs 
runs  out.  So  I  am  running  the  mine  on  my  own 
account.  Some  outside  parties  may  claim  heirship." 

"  Didn't  he  leave  a  daughter?  "  says  Woods. 

"  There  is  a  girl — she's  East  now,  at  school  ;  but, 
between  you  and  me,  old  fellow,  I  don't  know  if  she 
is  legitimate  or  not.  You  know  what  old  times 
were." 

Colonel  Joe  grins  with  a  twinge  of  conscience. 
He  has  had  his  "  beaux-jours." 

"  I  will  hold  on  till  the  limitation  runs  out.  I 
don't  want  to  cloud  the  title  to  my  mine,  with  litiga 
tion.  It  comes  through  Valois." 

"You  never  heard  of  any  Eastern  heirs?"  Joe 
remarks,  gulping  a  "  stiffener  "  of  brandy. 

"  Never,"  says  Hardin,  reaching  for  his  hat  and 
cane.  "  The  Judge  died  during  the  war.  I  believe 
his  boy  died  in  Paris.  He  has  never  turned  up. 
New  Orleans  is  gone  to  the  devil.  Tlrey  are  all 
dead." 

"  By  the  way,  Judge,  excuse  me."  Woods  dashes 
off  a  check  for  Hardin.  "  I  want  to  retain  you  if 
the  'Shooting  Star'  people  fool  with  my  working 
the  '  Golden  Chariot ; '  I  feel  safe  in  your  hands." 

Even  Hardin  can  afford  to  pocket  Joe's  check. 
It  is  a  prize.  Golden  bait,  Joseph. 

Woods  says  "  Good-bye,"  floridly,  to  his  legal 
friend.  He  takes  a  coupe  at  the  door.  "  Cute  old 


374  LAGUNITAS. 

devil,  Hardin  ;  I'll  run  him  down  yet,"  chuckles  the 
miner.  Joe  is  soon  on  his  way  to  the  Pacific  Mail 
Steamship  office. 

Several  gray-headed  officials  greet  the  popular 
capitalist. 

He  broaches  his  business.  "I  want  to  see  your 
passenger  lists  for  1865."  He  has  notes  of  Vimont's 
in  his  hand.  While  the  underlings  bring  out  dusty 
old  folios,  Joe  distributes  his  pet  cigars.  He  is 
always  welcome. 

Looking  over  the  ancient  records  he  finds  on  a 
trip  of  the  Golden  Gate,  the  following  entries : 

Madame  de  Santos, 
Miss  Isabel  Valois, 
Marie  Be^rard  and  child. 

He  calls  the  bookkeeper.  "  Can  you  tell  about 
these  people?  " 

The  man  of  ink  scans  the  entry.  He  ponders 
and  says  : 

"  I'll  tell  you  who  can  give  you  all  the  informa 
tion,  Colonel  Joe.  Hardin  was  lawyer  for  this 
lady.  He  paid  for  their  passages  with  a  check.  We 
note  these  payments  for  our  cash  references.  Here 
is  a  pencil  note:  *  ck  Hardin.*  I  remember  Har 
din  coming  himself." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right !  "  says  the  Argonaut. 

An  adjournment  of  "  all  hands,"  to  "  renew  those 
pleasing  assurances,"  is  in  order. 

u  Ah,  my  old  fox  !  "  thinks  Woods.  "  I  am  going 
to  find  out  who  gave  Marie  B£rard  that  other  child. 
But  I  won't  ask  you.  Your  time  is  too  valuable, 
Judge  Philip  Hardin." 


LAGUNITAS.  375 

He  gives  his  driver  an  extra  dollar  at  the  old  City 
Hall. 

Joe  Woods  thinks  he  is  alone  on  the  quest.  He 
knows  not  that  the  Archbishop's  secretary  is  reading 
some  long  Latin  letters,  not  three  blocks  away,  which 
are  dated  in  Paris  and  signed  Francois  Ribaut. 
They  refer  to  the  records  of  the  Mission  Dolores 
parish.  They  invoke  the  aid  of  the  all-seeing  eye  of 
the  Church  as  to  the  history  and  rights  of  Isabel 
Valois. 

Fere  Ribaut  humbly  begs  the  protection  of  his 
Grace  for  his  protege,  Armand  Valois,  in  case  he 
visits  California. 

Philip  Hardin,  in  his  office,  weaving  his  golden 
webs,  darkened  here  and  there  with  black  threads 
of  crime,  is  deaf  to  the  cry  of  conscience.  What  is 
the  orphaned  girl  to  hira  ?  A  mere  human  puppet. 
He  hears  not  the  panther  feet  of  the  avengers  of 
wrong  on  his  trail.  Blind  insecurity,  Judge  Har 
din. 

Woods  has  seized  Captain  Lee,  and  taken  him  out 
of  his  sanctum  to  the  shades  of  the  "  Bank  Ex 
change." 

The  great  detective  captain,  an  encyclopedia  of 
the  unwritten  history  of  San  Francisco,  regards 
Woods  with  a  twinkle  in  his  gray  eye.  The  hunted, 
despairing  criminal  knows  how  steady  that  eye  can 
be.  It  has  made  hundreds  quail. 

Lee  grins  over  his  cigar.  Another  millionaire  in 
trouble.  "  Some  woman,  surely."  The  only  ques 
tion  is  "  What  woman  ?  " 

The.  fair  sex  play  a  mighty  part  in  the  mysteries 
of  San  Francisco. 


376  LAGUNITAS. 

"  Lee,  1  want  you  to  hunt  up  the  history  of  a 
woman  for  me,"  says  the  old  miner. 

The  captain's  smile  runs  all  over  his  face.  "  Why, 
Colonel  Joe  !  "  he  begins. 

"  Look  here  ;  no  nonsense  !  "  says  Joseph,  firmly. 
"  It's  a  little  matter  of  five  thousand  dollars  to  you, 
if  you  can  trace  what  1  want." 

There  is  no  foolishness  in  Lee's  set  features.  He 
throws  himself  back,  studying  his  cigar  ash.  That 
five  thousand  dollars  is  an  "  open  sesame." 

"  What's  her  name?" 

Joseph  produces  his  notes. 

"  Do  you  remember  Hardin  sending  some  people 
to  Panama,  in  '65?"  begins  the  Colonel.  ''Two 
women  and  two  children.  They  sailed  on  the 
Golden  Gate" 

11  Perfectly,"  says  the  iron  captain,  removing  his 
cigar.  "  I  watched  these  steamers  for  the  govern 
ment.  He  was  a  Big  Six  in  the  K.  G.  C.,  you  re 
member,  Colonel  Joe?  " 

Joe  winces;  that  Golden  Circle  dinner  comes 
back,  when  he,  too,  cheered  the  Stars  and  Bars. 

"  I  see  you  do  remember,"  says  Lee,  throwing 
away  his  cigar.  "  Now  be  frank,  old  man.  Tell 
me  your  whole  game." 

Woods  hands  him  the  list  of  the  passengers.  He 
is  keenly  eying  Lee. 

"Who  was  that  Madame  de  Santos?"  he  says 
eagerly. 

"Is  it  worth  five  thousand  to  know?"  says  the 
detective,  quietly. 

"On  the  dead  square,"  replies  Joe.  "Cash 
ready." 


LAGUNITAS.  377 

1  Do  you  remember  the  '  Queen  of  the  El  Do 
rado  '  ?  "  Lee  simply  says. 

"  Here  !  Great  God,  man  !  "  cries  Lee,  for  Joe 
Woods'  fist  comes  down  on  the  table.  Flying  cigars, 
shattered  glasses,  and  foaming  wine  make  a  rare 
havoc  around. 

"  By  God  !  "  shouts  the  oblivious  Joe,  "  the  woman 
Hardin  killed  *  French  Charlie'  for." 

"  The  same,"  says  Lee,  steadily,  as  he  picks  some 
splintered  glass  out  of  his  goatee.  "  Joe,  you  can 
add  a  suit  of  clothes  to  that  check." 

"Stop  your  nonsense,"  says  the  happy  Joe,  ring 
ing  for  the  waiter  to  clear  away  the  wreck  of  his 
cyclonic  fist.  "  The  clothes  are  O.  K." 

"Where  did  she  come  from  to  take  that  boat  ?  " 
demands  Woods. 

"  From  Hardin's  house,"  says  Lee. 

A  light  breaks  in  on  Colonel  Joe's  brain. 

"  And  that  woman  with  her?" 

"  Was  her  maid,  who  stayed  with  her  from  the 
time  she  left  the  El  Dorado,  and  ran  the  little  nest 
on  the  hill.  The  mistress  never  showed  up  in  pub 
lic." 

"  And  the  child  who  went  with  the  maid  ?  "  Joe's 
voice  trembles. 

"  Was  Hardin's  child.  Its  mother  was  the  *  Queen 
of  the  El  Dorado.'  " 

Woods  looks  at  Lee. 

"  Can  you  give  me  a  report,  from  the  time  of  the 
killing  of  *  French  Charlie '  down  to  the  sailing?  " 

"  Yes,  I  can,"  says  the  inscrutable  Lee. 

"  Let  me  have  it,  to-morrow  morning.  Not  a 
word  to  Hardin." 


378  LAGUNITAS. 

"  All  right,  Colonel  Joe,"  is  the  answer  of  silent 
Lee. 

Joseph  chokes  down  his  feelings,  orders  a  fresh 
bottle  of  wine,  some  cigars,  and  calls  for  pen  and 
ink. 

While  the  waiter  uncorks  the  wine,  Joe  says : 
"  What  do  you  pay  for  your  clothes,  Lee?" 

"Oh,  a  hundred  and  fifty  will  do,"  is  the  modest 
answer.  "  That  carries  an  overcoat." 

Joe  laughs  as  he  beautifies  a  blank  check  with 
his  order  to  himself,  to  pay  to  himself,  five  thousand 
one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  neatly  indorses 
it,  "  Joseph  Woods."  "  I  guess  that's  the  caper, 
Captain,"  he  says.  This  "  little  formality  "  over, 
the  wine  goes  to  the  right  place  this  time. 

"  Now  I  don't  want  to  see  you  any  more  till  I  get 
your  reminiscences  of  that  lady,"  remarks  Joe, 
reaching  for  his  gold-headed  club. 

"  On  time,  ten  o'clock,"  is  the  response  of  the 
police  captain. 

"  Have  you  seen  her  since,  Joe?  She  was  a  high 
stepper,"  muses  the  Captain.  He  has  been  a  great 
connoisseur  of  loveliness.  Many  fair  ones  have 
passed  under  his  hands  in  public  duty  or  private 
stance. 

"That's  my  business,"  sturdy  Joe  mutters,  with 
an  unearthly  wink.  "  You  give  me  back  my  check, 
old  man,  and  I'll  tell  you  what  /know." 

Lee  laughs.     "  I'm  not  so  curious,  Colonel." 

They  shake  hands,  and  the  gray  old  wolf  goes  to 
his  den  to  muse  over  what  has  sent  Joe  Woods  on 
a  quest  for  this  "  fallen  star." 

Lee  wastes  no  time  in  mooning.     The  check  is 


LAGUNITAS.  379 

a  ;<  pleasing  reality."  The  memories  of  Hortense 
Duval  are  dearer  to  Joe  than  to  him.  His  pen  in 
dites  the  results  of  that  watchful  espionage  which 
covers  so  many  unread  leaves  of  private  life  in  San 
Francisco. 

There  is  an  innocent  smile  on  Woods'  face  when 
he  strolls  into  his  own  office  and  asks  Peyton  to 
give  him  the  evening  in  quiet.  Strongly  attracted 
by  the  Virginian,  Woods  has  now  a  double  interest 
in  his  new  friend. 

In  the  sanctum,  Woods  says,  "  Peyton,  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  a  story,  but  you  must  first  show  me  the 
papers  you  have  kept  so  long  of  poor  Valois." 

Peyton  rises  without  a  word.  He  returns  with  a 
packet. 

"  Here  you  are,  Woods.  I  have  not  examined 
them  yet.  Now,  what  is  it?" 

"  You  told  me  Valois  made  a  will  before  he  died, 
Peyton,"  begins  Woods. 

"  He  did,  and  wrote  to  Hardin.  He  wrote  to  the 
French  priest  at  his  ranch." 

Woods  starts.  "  Ha,  the  damned  scoundrel!  Go 
on  ;  go  on."  Joe  knows  Pere  Francois  never  got 
that  letter.  "  I  read  those  documents.  His  letter 
of  last  wishes  to  Hardin.  When  I  was  in  Havana, 
I  found  Hardin  never  acknowledged  the  papers." 

Woods  sees  it  all.  He  listens  as  Peyton  tells  the 
story. 

"  We  have  to  do  with  a  villain,"  says  Joe.  "  He 
destroyed  the  papers  or  has  hidden  them.  Colonel, 
open  this  packet."  Joe's  voice  is  solemn. 

With  reverent  hand,  Peyton  spreads  the  papers 
before  the  miner.  There  are  stains  upon  them. 


380  LAGUNITAS. 

Separating  them,  he  arranges  them  one  by  one. 
Suddenly  he  gives  a  gasp. 

"  My  God  !  Colonel  Joe,  look  there  !  " 

Woods  springs  to  his  side. 

It  is  a  "  message  from  the  dead." 

Yes,  lying  for  years  unread,  between  the  last  let 
ters  of  his  wife  and  the  tidings  of  her  death,  is  an 
envelop  addressed : 

"  Major  Henry  Peyton, 

Fourteenth  Louisiana  Inf'y, 
C.  S.  A." 

Tears  trickle  through  Peyton's  fingers,  as  he  raises 
his  head,  and  breaks  the  seal. 

"  Read  it,  Major,"  says  Woods  huskily.  He  is 
moved  to  the  core  of  his  heart.  It  brings  old  days 
back. 

Peyton  reads : 

ATLANTA — In  the  field, 

July  21,  1864. 

MY  DEAR  PEYTON  : — I  am  oppressed  with  a  strange  unrest 
about  my  child  !  I  do  not  fear  to  meet  death  to-morrow.  1 
feel  it  will  take  me  away  from  my  sadness.  I  am  ready.  Our 
Hag  is  falling.  I  do  not  wish  to  live  to  see  it  in  the  dust.  But 
I-am  a  father.  As  I  honor  you,  for  the  brotherhood  of  our  life 
together,  I  charge  you  to  watch  over  my  child.  Hardin  is  old  ; 
something  might  happen  to  him.  I  forgot  a  second  appoint 
ment  in  the  will  ;  I  name  you  as  co-executor  with  him.  Show 
him  this.  It  is  my  dying  wish.  He  is  a  man  of  honor.  I 
have  left  all  my  estate  to  my  beloved  child,  Isabel  Valois.  It  is 
only  right  ;  the  property  came  by  my  marriage  with  my  wife, 
her  dead  mother.  In  the  case  of  the  death  of  my  child,  search 
out  the  heirs  of  Judge  Valois  and  see  the  property  fairly  divided 
among  them.  Hardin  is  the  soul  of  honor,  and  will  aid  you  in 
all.  I  desire  this  to  be  a  codicil  to  my  will,  and  regarded  as 


LAGUNITAS.  381 

such.     I  could  not  ask  you  to  ride  out  again  for  me  this  wild 
night  before  my  last  battle. 

The  will  you  witnessed,  is  the  necessary  act  of  the  death  of 
my  wife.  If  you  live  through  the  war,  never  forget 

Your  friend  and  comrade, 
MAXIMS  VALOIS. 

P.  S.  If  you  go  to  California,  look  up  Joe  Woods.  He  is  as 
true  a  man  as  ever  breathed,  and  would  be  kind  to  my  little 
girl.  Padre  Francisco  Ribaut  married  me  at  Lagunitas  to  my 
Dolores.  Good-bye  and  good-night.  M.  V. 

The  men  gaze  at  each  other  across  the  table, 
touched  by  this  solemn  voice  sweeping  down  the 
path  of  dead  years.  That  lonely  grave  by  the  lines 
of  Atlanta  seemed  to  have  opened  to  a  dead  father's 
love.  Peyton  saw  the  past  in  a  new  light.  Valois' 
reckless  gallantry  that  day  was  an  immolation.  His 
wife's  death  had  unsettled  him. 

Joe  Woods'  rugged  breast  heaved  in  sorrow  as  he 
said,  "  Peyton,  I  will  stand  by  that  child.  So  help 
me,  God !  And  he  thought  of  me  at  the  last — he 
thought  of  me  !  "  The  old  miner  chokes  down  a 
rising  sob.  Both  are  in  tears. 

"  Look  here,  Colonel !  "  said  Woods  briskly.  "  This 
will  never  do  !  You  will  want  to  cheer  up  a  little, 
for  your  trip,  you  know." 

"Trip?  "  says  the  wondering  Virginian. 

"  Why,  yes,"  innocently  remarks  Joseph  Woods. 
"  You  are  going  to  New  Orleans  to  look  up  about 
the  Valois  boy.  Then  you  are  to  see  those  bankers 
at  Havana,  and  get  proof  before  the  Consul-General 
about  the  document?.  I  want  you  to  send  your 
affidavit  to  me.  I've  got  a  lawyer  in  New  York, 
who  is  a  man.  I'll  write  him.  You  can  tell  him 


382  LAGUNITAS. 

all.  I'm  coming  on  there  soon.  After  you  get  to 
New  York  from  Havana,  you  will  go  to  Paris  and 
stay  there  till  I  come." 

Peyton  smiles  even  in  his  sadness.  "  That's  a  long 
journey,  but  I  am  yours,  Colonel.  Why  do  I  go  to 
Paris?" 

"  You  are  going  to  answer  the  letter  of  that  dead 
man,"  impressively  remarks  Joseph. 

"  How  ?  "  murmurs  Peyton. 

"  By  being  a  father  to  his  lonely  child  and  watch 
ing  over  her.  There's  two  girls  there.  You  can 
keep  an  eye  on  them  both.  I'll  trap  this  old  scoun 
drel  here.  You've  got  to  leave  this  town.  He 
might  suspect  you  when  I  start  my  machinery. 

"  I'll  plow  deep  here.  I'll  meet  you  in  New  York. 
Now,  I  want  you  to  take  to-morrow's  train.  I'll 
run  your  stock  account,  Colonel  Henry,"  Woods 
remarks,  with  a  laugh. 

The  next  day,  Peyton  speeds  away  on  his  errand 
after  receiving  the  old  miner's  last  orders.  His 
whispered  adieu  was  :  "  I'm  going  to  stand  by  my 
dead  pardner's  kid,  for  he  thought  of  me  at  the 
last." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

WEAVING    SPIDERS. —  A    COWARD    BLOW.  —  MARIE 
B£RARD'S  DOOM. 

PEYTON'S  good-bye  rings  in  Woods'  ears  as  the 
train  leaves.  The  boxes  and  parcels  forced  on  the 
Confederate  veteran,  are  tokens  of  his  affection. 


LAGUNITAS.  383 

The  cognac  and  cigars  are  of  his  own  selection. 
Joe's  taste  in  creature  comforts  is  excellent,  and 
better  than  his  grammar. 

On  the  ferry,  Joe  surveys  San  Francisco  compla 
cently  from  the  steamer. 

"  I've  got  those  documents  in  the  vaults.  I'll 
have  Peyton's  evidence.  I  rather  fancy  Captain 
Lee's  biography  will  interest  that  dame  in  Paris.  I 
will  prospect  my  friend  Hardin's  surroundings.  He 
must  have  some  devil  to  do  his  dirty  work.  I  will 
do  a  bit  of  '  coyote  work  '  myself.  It's  a  case  of  dog 
eat  dog,  here." 

Joseph  classes  all  underhand  business  as  "  coyote 
work."  He  appreciates  the  neatness  with  which 
that  furtive  Western  beast  has  taken  his  boots,  soap, 
his  breakfast  and  camp  treasures  under  his  nose. 

Invincible,  invisible,  is  the  coyote. 

"  By  Heavens  !  I'll  make  that  old  wolf  Hardin 
jump  yet !  "  Joseph  swears  a  pardonable  oath. 

After  writing  several  telling  letters  to  the  Padre 
and  Vimont,  he  feels  like  a  little  stroll.  He  ordered 
Vimont  to  guard  Louise  Moreau  at  any  cost.  "  No 
funny  business,"  he  mutters. 

"  If  she's  the  girl,  that  scoundrel  might  try  to  re 
move  her  from  this  world,"  thinks  Joseph.  "  As  for 
the  other  girl,  he's  got  a  tiger  cat  to  fight  in  the  '  de 
Santos.'" 

Colonel  Woods  beams  in  upon  the  clerks  of  Judge 
Hardin.  That  magnate  is  absent.  The  senatorial 
contest  is  presaged  by  much  wire-pulling. 

"  I  don't  see  the  young  man  who  used  to  run  this 
shebang,"  carelessly  remarks  the  Croesus. 

"  Mr.  Jaggers  is  not  here  any  longer,"  smartly  re- 


384  LAGUNITAS. 

plies  his  pert  successor,  to  whom  the  fall  of  Jaggers 
was  a  veritable  bonanza. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him  ?  "  says  Woods.  "  I 
wanted  him  to  do  a  job  of  copying  for  me." 

The  incumbent  airily  indicates  the  pantomime  of 
conveying  the  too  frequent  Bourbon  to  his  lips. 

"  Oh,  I  see!  The  old  thing,"  calmly  says  Woods. 
"  Fired  out  for  drinking." 

The  youth  nods.  "  He  is  around  Montgomery 
Street.  You  'most  always  will  catch  him  around 
the  '  old  corner '  saloon." 

Joseph  Woods  is  familiar  with  that  resort  of  bibu 
lous  lawyers.  He  wanders  out  aimlessly. 

While  Barney  McFadden,  the  barkeeper,  surveys 
Colonel  Joseph  swallowing  his  extra  cocktail,  he 
admires  himself  in  the  mirror.  He  dusts  off  his 
diamond  pin  with  a  silk  handkerchief. 

"  Jaggers  •  Oh,  yes  ;  know  him  well.  In  back 
room  playing  pedro.  Want  him?" 

Woods  bows.  The  laconic  Ganymede  drags 
Jaggers  away  from  his  ten-cent  game. 

Impelled  by  a  telegraphic  wink,  Barney  deftly 
duplicates  the  favorite  tipple  of  the  Californian. 
The  Golden  State  has  been  sustained  in  its  growth, 
by  myriads  of  cocktails.  It  is  the  State  coat  of  arms. 

"  Want  to  see  me?  Certainly,  Colonel."  Jag 
gers  is  aroused. 

In  a  private  room,  Jaggers  wails  over  his  dis 
charge.  His  pocket  is  his  only  fear.  Otherwise, 
he  is  in  Heaven.  His  life  now,  is  all  "  Cocktails  and 
poker!"  "  Poker  and  cocktails!"  It  leaves  him 
little  time  for  business.  Woods  knows  his  man— 
a  useful  tool. 


LAGUNITAS.  385 

"  Look  here,  Jaggers;  I  know  your  time  is  valu 
able."  Jaggers  bows  gravely  ;  he  smells  a  new 
twenty-dollar  piece  ;  it  will  extend  his  "  cocktail 
account."  "  I  want  you  to  do  some  business  for 
me."  Jaggers  looks  stately. 

"I'm  your  man,  Colonel,"  says  Jaggers,  who  is, 
strange  to  say,  very  expert  in  his  line.  The  trouble 
with  Jaggers  is,  the  saloon  is  not  near  enough  to 
Judge  Hardin's  office.  The  office  should  be  in  the 
saloon.  It  would  save  useless  walking. 

"I  want  you  to  search  a  title  for  me,"  says 
Colonel  Joe,  from  behind  a  cloud  of  smoke.  Jag 
gers  sniffs  the  aroma.  Joseph  hands  him  several 
;<  Excepcionales." 

Jaggers  becomes  dignified  and  cool.  "  Is  there 
money  in  it,  Colonel  ?  "  he  says,  with  a  gleam  of  his 
ferret  eyes. 

"  Big  money,"  decisively  says  Woods. 

"  I'm  very  busy  now,"  objects  Jaggers.  He  thinks 
of  his  ten-cent  ante  in  that  pedro  game. 

"  I  want  you  to  give  me  your  idea  of  the  title  to 
the  Lagunitas  mine.  I  am  thinking  of  buying  in," 
continues  Joe.  "  I'll  give  you  five  hundred  dollars, 
in  cold  twenties,  if  you  tell  me  what  you  know." 

u  How  soon  ?  "  Jaggers  says,  with  a  gasp. 

4i  Right  off !  "  ejaculates  Woods,  banging  the  bell 
for  two  more  cocktails. 

Jaggers  drains  the  fiery  compound.  He  whispers 
with  burning  breath  in  Woods'  ears  : 

"  Make  it  a  cool  thousand,  and  swear  you'll  look 
out  for  me.  I'll  give  the  thing  dead  away.  You 
know  what  a  son-of-a-gun  Hardin  is?  " 

Woods  bows.  He  don't  know,  but  he  is  going  to 
25 


386  LAGUNITAS. 

find  out.  "  I'll  give  you  a  job  in  my  mine  (the 
Golden  Chariot),  as  time-keeper.  You  can  keep 
drunk  all  your  life,  except  at  roll-call.  If  Hardin 
hunts  you  up  there,  I'll  have  the  foreman  pitch 
him  down  the  shaft.  Is  this  square  ?  " 

"  Honor  bright  !  "  says  Jaggers,  extending  his 
palm.  "  Honor  bright  !  "  says  Joseph,  who  dares 
not  look  too  joyous. 

Jaggers  muses  over  another  cocktail.  "  You  go 
to  the  bank,  and  get  a  thousand  dollars  clean  stuff. 
Give  me  a  coupe.  I'll  give  you  the  things  you 
want,  in  half  an  hour.  I've  got  'em  stowed  away. 
Don't  follow  me  !  " 

Woods  nods,  and  throws  him  a  double-eagle. 
"  I'll  be  here  when  you  come  back.  Keep  sober 
till  we're  done.  I'll  give  you  a  pass  to  Virginia 
City,  so  you  can  finish  your  drunk  in  high  alti 
tudes.  It's  healthier,  my  boy  !  "  Joe  winks. 

Jaggers  is  off  like  a  shot.  Colonel  Joseph  walks 
two  blocks  to  the  bank.  He  returns  with  fifty 
yellow  double-eagles. 

"  Got  to  fight  coyote  style  to  catch  a  coyote !  "  is 
the  murmur  of  Colonel  Woods  to  his  inward  mon 
itor.  "  It's  for  the  fatherless  kid." 

"  Barney,"  impressively  says  Joseph,  "  make  me 
a  good  cocktail  this  time  !  Send  'em  in,  any  way, 
when  that  young  man  returns.  His  life  is  insured. 
/  have  to  work  for  a  living.  Make  one  for  yourself. 
You  are  responsible." 

Barney's  chef  d'ceuvre  wins  a  smile  from  the 
genial  son  of  Missouri.  As  the  last  drops  trickle 
down  his  throat,  Jaggers  enters.  He  has  had  ex 
ternal  cocktails.  He  is  flushed,  but  triumphant. 


LAGUNITAS.  387 

"Colonel,  you're  a  man  of  honor.  There's  your 
stuff."  He  throws  an  envelope  on  the  table. 

Joseph  Woods  opens  the  packet.  "Just  count 
that,  young  man,  while  I  look  at  these." 

He  peruses  the  papers  handed  him,  with  interest. 
Jaggers  follows  him. 

"  This  is  all  you  have.  Anything  else  in  the 
office?"  says  Woods. 

"  Not  a  scratch.  Colonel,  I  thought  they  would 
come  in  handy.  "  Jaggers'  work  is  done. 

"Take  care  of  your  money,  my  lad.  It  is  yours," 
says  Woods.  He  rings  for  Barney,  and  indites  a 
note  to  his  foreman  at  the  "  Golden  Chariot."  "You 
better  get  up  there,  to-night,  Jaggers,"  he  says, 
handing  him  the  note  and  a  pass.  "  Your  appoint 
ment  is  only  good  for  that  train.  You  give  that 
note  to  Hank  Daly.  He'll  supply  you  all  the  whiskey 
you  want,  free.  By  the  way,  the  boys  up  there 
play  poker  pretty  well.  Now  you  keep  cool,  or 
you'll  get  shot  as  well  as  lose  your  money.  Don't 
you  forget  to  stay  there,  if  it's  ten  years  till  I  want 
you.  Daly  will  have  orders  for  you. 

"  If  you  come  back  here,  Hardin  will  kill  you  like 
a  dog,  if  he  finds  this  out." 

"And  you?"  murmurs  Jaggers,  who  is  imbibing 
the  stirrup  cup. 

"  Oh,  I'll  look  out  for  that !  "  remarks  cheerful 
Joe  Woods.  Armed  with  substantial  "  persuaders," 
Jaggers  leaves  with  an  agent  of  Barney's.  He  has 
orders  to  see  Jaggers  and  his  "  baggage,"  started 
for  Virginia  City. 

Jaggers  beams.  Joe  Woods  never  drops  a  friend. 
His  future  smiles  before  him.  Exit  Jaggers. 


388  LAGUNITAS. 

Woods  reads  the  documents.  One  is  a  press  copy 
of  a  letter  dated  January,  1864,  addressed  to  Colonel 
Maxime  Valois,  from  Hardin,  asking  him  to  sell 
him  the  quartz  claims  on  the  Lagunitas  grant. 

The  answer  of  Valois  is  written  while  recovering 
from  his  wounds.  It  reads  : 

"TALLULAH,  GEORGIA,  March  i,  1864. 

"  MY  DEAR  HARDIN  :  I  have  your  letter,  asking  me  to  sell 
you  the  quartz  leads  on  the  Lagunitas  grant.  I  am  still  suffer 
ing  from  my  wound,  and  must  be  brief. 

"  I  cannot  do  this.  My  title  is  the  title  of  my  wife.  I  hav^e 
no  right  to  dispose  of  her  property  by  inheritance,  without 
her  consent.  She  has  my  child  to  look  after.  As  the  ranch 
income  may  fail  some  day,  I  will  not  cut  off  her  chances  to 
sell.  It  is  her  property.  I  would  not  cloud  it.  I  will  join  my 
regiment  soon.  If  the  war  ends  and  I  live  to  return,  I  will 
arrange  with  you.  I  have  no  power  to  do  this,  now,  as  my 
wife  would  have  to  join  in  the  sale.  I  will  not  ask  her  to 
diminish  the  value  of  the  tract.  I  leave  no  lien  on  this  property. 
My  wife  and  child  have  it  free  from  incumbrance  if  I  die. 

"  Address  me  at  Atlanta,  Georgia. 

"Yours,  MAXIME  VALOIS." 

"  I  think  I  hold  four  aces  now,  Mr.  Philip  Hardin," 
says  Woods,  contemplating  himself  in  the  mirror 
over  the  bar  as  he  settles  with  the  gorgeous  Barney. 

"  By  the  way,"  remarks  Woods,  "  Barney  ;  if  that 
young  man  owes  you  a  bill,  send  it  around  to  my 
office."  Barney  escorts  his  visitor  to  the  door, 
bowing  gratefully.  Woods  departs  in  a  quandary. 

"  I  guess  I'll  gather  up  all  my  documents,  an'd 
take  a  look  over  things.  New  York  is  the  place  for 
me  to  get  a  square  opinion." 

When  Woods  reaches  New  York  he  meets  Pey 
ton,  successful  in  his  tour  for  evidence.  On  consul- 


LAGUNITAS.  389 

tation  with  Judge  Davis,  bis  adviser,  Woods  sends 
Peyton  to  Tallulah.  It  is  likely  Valois'  papers 
may  be  found,  for  the  Colonel  "  joined  "  hurriedly 
on  the  last  advance  of  Sherman.  Colonel  Joseph 
imparts  his  ideas  to  his  counsel.  A  certified  copy 
of  the  transfer  recorded  by  Hardin,  of  the  Laguni- 
tas  mine,  is  sent  on  by  Jaggers,  directed  in  his  trip 
by  Hank  Daly  from  the  mine. 

In  five  days  a  despatch  from  Tallulah  gladdens 
the  miner,  who  longs  for  Paris  : 

"  Found  and  examined  baggage.  Original  letter  in  my 
hands.  Coming  with  all.  Many  other  papers. 

"  PEYTON." 

On  the  Virginian's  arrival  Judge  Davis  instructs 
the  friends.  Woods  insists  on  Peyton  taking  joint 
charge  of  the  quest  for  the  orphan's  fortune. 

"  Hardin  is  responsible  under  his  trusteeship. 
You  can't  force  Peyton  on  him  as  co-executor.  He 
has  concealed  the  will.  A  suit  now  would  warn  the 
villain  and  endanger  the  child's  life.  Take  the  cer 
tified  copy  of  the  transfer  to  Paris.  Get  the  priest's 
deposition  that  the  document  is  forged  ;  then  guard 
the  girl  as  if  she  were  your  life.  In  a  few  years  the 
heiress  will  be  entitled  to  claim  her  estate.  Keep 
the  child  near  Paris,  but  change  her  residence  often. 
Watch  the  maid  and  Madame  de  Santos.  Follow 
them  to  California.  Produce  the  girl  you  claim  to 
be  the  heiress.  I  will  give  you  a  letter  to  an  advo 
cate  in  Paris,  who  will  close  up  the  proof.  Beware 
of  Hardin  !  If  he  suspects,  the  child's  life  may  be 
in  danger  !  " 

"  I'll  kill  him  myself  if  there  is  any  foul  play  !  " 
roars  Joe  Woods. 


390  LAGUNITAS. 

"  My  dear  Colonel,  that  would  not  bring  the  child 
back,"  remarks  Judge  Davis,  smiling  at  his  hand 
some  counsel  fee.  "  Count  on  me !  Use  the 
cable." 

On  the  Atlantic  the  guardians  agree  on  their 
duties.  "  I  will  interview  Madame  de  Santos  when  I 
close  some  business  in  London,"  says  Woods  grimly. 

Peyton,  with  credentials  to  Padre  Francisco, 
speeds  from  Liverpool  to  Paris.  He  arrives  none 
too  soon. 

Philip  Hardin's  villany  strikes  from  afar ! 

Judge  Hardin,  passing  the  county  seat,  on  his 
way  to  the  mine,  looks  in  to  obtain  his  annual  tax 
papers.  A  voluble  official  remarks  : 

"  Going  to  sell  your  mine,  Judge?" 

"  Certainly  not,  sir,"  replies  the  would-be  Senator, 
with  hauteur. 

"  Excuse  me.  You  sent  for  certified  copies  of  the 
title.  We  thought  you  were  putting  it  on  the  mar 
ket." 

Hardin  grows  paler  than  his  wont.  Some  one 
has  been  on  the  trail.  He  asks  no  questions.  His 
cipher-book  is  at  San  Francisco.  Who  is  on  the 
track?  He  cannot  divine.  The  man  applying  was 
a  stranger  who  attracted  no  attention.  The  Judge 
telegraphs  to  the  mine  for  his  foreman  to  come  to 
San  Francisco.  He  returns  to  his  house  on  the  hill. 
From  his  private  safe  he  extracts  the  last  letters  of 
Natalie  de  Santos. 

Since  her  urgent  appeal,  she  has  been  brief  and 
cold.  She  is  waiting.  Is  this  her  stroke  ?  He  will 
see.  Has  anyone  seen  the  child  and  made  disclos 
ures?  His  heart  flutters.  He  must  now  placate 


LAGUNITAS.  39! 

Natalie.  The  child  must  be  quickly  removed  from 
Paris.  He  dare  not  give  a  reason.  No,  but  he  can 
use  a  bribe. 

After  several  futile  attempts  he  pens  this  cipher: 

Remove  child  instantly  to  Dresden.  Telegraph  your  ad 
dress  on  arrival.  Definite  settlement  as  you  wished.  Re 
member  your  promise.  Directions  by  mail.  Imperative. 

PHILIP. 

Hardin  chafes  anxiously  before  a  reply  reaches 
him.  When  he  reads  it,  he  rages  like  a  fiend.  It 
clearly  reads  : 

I  will  not  obey.  Marry  me  first.  Come  here.  Keep  your 
oath.  I  will  keep  my  promise.  A  settlement  on  the  other  child 
is  no  safeguard  to  me.  She  must  have  a  name.  Letters  final. 
Useless  to  telegraph.  HORTENSE. 

When  Hardin's  rage  subsides,  he  reviews  the  sit 
uation  in  his  palace.  He  is  safe  for  years  from  an 
accounting,  yet  it  is  coming  on.  If  he  brings  the 
heiress  to  California,  it  will  precipitate  it.  Secret 
plans  for  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  are  now 
maturing.  Marriage  with  Hortense.  Impossible. 
His  friends  urge  his  giving  his  name  to  an  ambi-. 
tious  lady  of  the  "  blue  blood  "  of  his  Southern 
home.  She  is  a  relative  of  the  head  of  the  Demo 
cratic  capitalists.  This  is  a  "  sine  qua  non."  The 
lady  has  claims  on  these  honors.  It  has  been  a  se 
cret  bargain  to  give  his  hand  in  return  for  that  seat. 
Hortense  talks  madness.  Never. 

As  for  facing  her,  he  dare  not.  He  has  estab 
lished  her.  She  is  too  subtle  to  risk  herself  out  of 
the  lines  she  has  found  safe.  Who  can  be  the 
"  Deus  ex  machina  "  ? 


392  LAGUNITAS. 

Ah,  that  Italian  meddler,  Villa  Rocca  !  Hardin 
weaves  a  scheme.  He  will  wait  her  letters.  If  the 
Italian  is  his  enemy,  he  will  lure  him  to  California 
and  then — 

Ah,  yes,  till  then,  patience — the  patience  of  the 
tiger  crouching  at  the  water-pool  for  his  coming 
prey. 

Peyton  loses  no  time  in  Paris.  He  reaches  the 
home  of  Aristide  Dauvray.  He  is  welcomed  by  the 
circle.  The  young  artists  are  busy  with  brush  and 
modelling  tool.  Woods'  patronage  has  been  a 
blessing.  The  fame  of  his  orders  has  been  ex 
tended  by  the  exhibition  of  the  works  ordered  by 
him.  His  bankers  have  directed  the  attention  of 
the  travelling  Americans  to  the  young  man. 

Louise  Moreau  is  no  longer  a  bud,  but  an  opening 
rose.  So  fair  is  she,  so  lovely,  that  Armand  feels 
his  heart  beat  quicker  when  the  girl  nears  his  canvas 
to  admire  his  skill.  By  the  direction  of  Pere 
Francois,  she  leaves  the  house  no  more  for  her 
lessons.  There  is  a  secret  guard  of  loving  hearts 
around  her. 

Pere  Frangqis  meets  Peyton  with  open  arms. 
They  are  to  be  joint  guardians  over  the  innocent 
child  of  destiny. 

At  Peyton's  hotel,  the  men  commune.  It  is  not 
strange  that  the  ex-Confederate  is  comfortably 
settled  opposite  the  Dauvray  mansion  !  In  an  ex 
change  of  opinion  with  the  able  Josephine,  it  is 
agreed  that  one  of  the  young  men  or  the  Colonel 
shall  be  always  at  hand. 

Woods  meditates  a  "  coup  de  maitre."  He  intends, 
on  his  arrival,  to  remove  the  girl  Louise  where  no 


LAGUNITAS.  393 

malignity  of  Hardin  can  reach  her,  to  some  place 
where  even  Marie  Berard  will  be  powerless.  He 
will  force  some  one  to  show  a  hand.  Then,  God 
keep  the  villain  who  leaves  his  tree  to  fight  in  the 
open  !  It  is  war  to  the  death.  Woods  directs 
Peyton  to  use  his  bankers  and  the  police,  telegraph 
ing  him  at  London.  He  has  a  fear  they  have  been 
followed  to  Europe.  The  bankers  understand  that 
Peyton  and  the  priest  are  Woods'  ambassadors. 

Marie  Berard  comes  no  more  to  the  home  of  her 
charge.  Her  letters  are  sent  by  a  commissionaire. 
Peyton  reads  in  this  a  danger  signal.  The  soldier 
is  on  the  watch  for  treachery.  His  quiet  habits  are 
easily  satisfied.  He  has  his  books,  daily  journals, 
and  also  French  lessons  from  charming  Louise. 

It  is  sunny  splendor  at  the  house  on  the  Champs 
Elysees,  where  Natalie  de  Santos  moves  in  her 
charmed  circle  of  luxury.  While  Peyton  waits  for 
the  "  Comstock  Colonel,"  an  anxious  woman  sits  in 
her  queenly  boudoir. 

Natalie's  beauty  is  ravishing.  The  exquisite  ele 
gance  of  her  manner  is  in  keeping  with  the  charms 
of  the  shining  loveliness  which  makes  her  a  cyno 
sure  in  the  "  Bois." 

Face  to  face  with  a  dilemma,  the  fair  "  chatelaine  " 
racks  her  brain  for  a  new  expedient.  Her  woman's 
wit  is  nonplussed. 

Villa  Rocca  demands,  urges,  pleads,  sues  for  mar 
riage.  Is  it  love  ?  Of  all  her  swains  he  is  the  only 
one  who  touches  her  heart.  At  his  approach,  her 
tell-tale  pulse  beats  high.  She  dare  not  yet  quit 
Hardin.  There  is  a  campaign  before  her.  To  force 
Hardin  to  marry  her,  even  secretly,  is  the  main 


394  LAGUNITAS. 

attack.  He  is  now  old.  Then,  to  establish  her 
daughter  as  the  heiress  of  Lagunitas.  After 
Hardin's  death,  marriage  with  Villa  Rocca.  That 
is  the  goal.  But  how  to  restrain  his  lover-like  ardor. 

She  smiles  at  her  reflection  in  the  glass.  She 
knows  "the  fatal  gift  of  beauty."  It  is  another 
woman  than  the  "  queen  of  the  gambling  hell  " 
who  smiles  back  at  her.  The  pearls  on  her  neck 
rise  and  fall.  Hardin  !  Ah,  yes;  his  possible 
treachery  !  Would  he  dare  to  take  the  convent 
pupil  away  from  her  ?  Perhaps. 

A  devilish  smile  plays  on  her  lips.  She  will  let 
him  steal  his  own  child  ;  the  other,  the  real  Lady 
of  Lagunitas,  he  never  shall  know.  Gods  !  If  he 
should  be  aware  of  it.  It  must  be  prevented. 
Whom  can  she  trust  ?  No  one. 

Villa  Rocca?  Triumph  shines  in  her  eyes  !  She 
must  definitely  promise  him  marriage  in  these  happy 
years,  and  give  him  the  child  as  a  gage.  He  can 
hide  her  in  his  Italian  hills.  He  really  has  a  bit  of 
a  castle  under  the  olive-clad  hills  of  Tuscany. 

But  Marie  Berard.  She  must  outwit  that  maid. 
When  the  child  is  gone,  Marie's  power  ceases.  No 
one  will  ever  believe  her.  A  few  thousand  francs 
extra  will  satisfy  the  greedy  soubrette. 

Seizing  her  pen,  she  sends  a  note  to  the  club 
where  baccarat  and  billiards  claim  Villa  Rocca's  idle 
hours.  He  meets  her  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  now 
splendid  in  transplanted  foliage.  His  coupe  dis 
missed,  they  wander  in  the  alleys  so  dear  to  lovers. 
There  is  triumph  in  her  face  as  they  separate. 
A  night  for  preparation  ;  next  day,  armed  with 
credentials  in  "  billets  dc  banque,"  Villa  Rocca  will 


LAGUNITAS.  395 

lure  the  girl  to  her  mysterious  guardian  who  will  be 
"  sick "  near  Paris.  Once  under  way,  Villa  Rocca 
will  not  stop  till  the  girl  is  in  his  Italian  manor. 

With  bounding  heart,  he  assents.  He  has  now 
Natalie's  promise  to  marry  him.  They  are  one  in 
heart. 

"  I  am  yours  to  the  death,"  he  says. 

While  Natalie  sips  her  chocolate  next  morning,  a 
carriage  draws  up  before  Aristide  Dauvray's  home. 
Josephine  is  busied  with  the  household.  Louise, 
singing  like  a  lark,  gayly  aids  her  foster-mother. 
Aristide  is  far  away.  He  toils  at  the  new  structures 
of  beauty.  Arm  in  arm,  the  young  artists  are  taking 
a  long  stroll. 

A  gentleman  of  elegant  appearance  descends,  with 
anxious  visage.  The  peal  of  the  bell  indicates  haste. 
Josephine  receives  her  visitor.  He  curtly  explains 
his  visit.  The  guardian  of  Louise  Moreau  needs  her 
instant  presence.  She  is  ill,  perhaps  dying.  In  her 
excitement,  Josephine's  prudence  is  forgotten.  To 
lose  the  income  from  the  child,  to  hazard  the  child's 
chances  of  property.  "  But  the  child  must  go  :  at 
once!"  Josephine  is  awed  and  flurried.  As  she 
hastily  makes  preparation,  a  ray  of  suspicion  darts 
through  her  mind.  Who  is  this  messenger? 

"  I  think  I  had  better  accompany  you,"  cries 
Josephine.  Then,  "  her  house,"  to  be  left  to  only 
one  feeble  old  servant. 

"Ah,  ciel!     It  is  terrible." 

"  Madame,  we  have  no  time  to  lose.  It  is  near 
the  train  time.  We  will  telegraph.  You  can  follow 
in  two  hours,"  the  stranger  remarks,  in  silken  voice. 

The  visitor  urges.     The  girl  is  cloaked  and  bon- 


396  LAGUNITAS. 

neted.  Josephine  loses  her  head.  "  One  moment," 
— she  rushes  for  her  hat  and  wrap  ;  she  will  go  at 
once,  herself. 

As  she  returns,  there  is  a  muffled  scream  at  the 
door  of  the  coupe. 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  "  Josephine  screams.  "  My  child  ! 
my  Louise!  "  The  coupe  door  is  closing. 

A  strong  voice  cries  to  the  driver,  "  Allez  vite  !  " 

As  "  Jehu  "  is  about  to  lash  his  horses,  an  appari 
tion  glues  him  to  his  seat. 

A  gray-haired  man  points  an  ugly  revolver  at  his 
head. 

"  Halt  !  "  he  says.  The  street  is  deserted.  Villa 
Rocca  opens  the  door.  A  strong  hand  hurls  him 
to  the  gutter.  Louise  is  urged  from  the  coach. 
She  is  in  her  home  again  ! 

Peyton  turns  to  grasp  the  man,  who  picks  himself 
from  the  gutter.  He  is  ten  seconds  too  late.  The 
carriage  is  off  like  a  flash  ;  it  turns  the  corner  at  a 
gallop.  Too  cool  to  leave  the  fort  unguarded,  Pey 
ton  enters  the  salon.  He  finds  Josephine  moaning 
over  Louise,  who  has  fainted. 

In  a  half-hour,  Pere  Frangois  and  the  young  men 
are  a  bodyguard  on  duty.  Peyton  drives  to  the 
bank,  and  telegraphs  Woods  at  London  : 

"Come  instantly!  Attempt  to  abduct,  prevented  by  me! 
Danger  !  PEYTON." 

The  next  night,  in  the  rooms  of  the  miner,  the 
padre  and  Peyton  hold  a  council  of  war.  An  engine 
waits  at  the  "  Gare  du  Nord."  When  sunlight  gilds 
once  more  Notre  Dame,  Peyton  enters  the  car  with 
a  lady,  clad  in  black.  A  maid,  selected  by  Joseph 
Vimont,  is  of  the  party.  "  Monsieur  Joseph  "  him- 


LAGUNITAS.  397 

self  strolls  into  the  depot.  He  jumps  into  the  cab 
with  the  engineer.  "  Allons  !  "  They  are  off. 

From  forty  miles  away  a  few  clicks  of  the  tele 
graph  flash  the  news  to  Woods.  The  priest  knows 
that  Peyton  and  his  ward  are  safely  "  en  route." 
"Tres  bien!" 

It  is  years  before  the  light  foot  of  Louise  Mofeau 
presses  again  the  threshold  of  her  childhood's 
home.  In  a  sunny  chateau,  near  Lausanne,  a  merry 
girl  grows  into  a  superb  "  Lady  of  the  Lake."  She 
is  "Louise  Moreau,"  but  Louise  "en  reine."  She 
rules  the  hearts  of  gentle  Henry  Peyton  and  the 
"autocrat  of  the  Golden  Chariot."  It  is  beyond  the 
ken  of  "  Natalie  de  Santos,"  or  Philip  Hardin,  to 
pierce  the  mystery  of  that  castle  by  the  waters  of 
the  Swiss  lake. 

Visions  of  peace  lend  new  charms  to  the  love  of 
the  pure-souled  girl  who  wanders  there. 

Louise  is  not  always  alone  by  Leman's  blue  waters. 
Colonel  Peyton  is  a  thoughtful,  aging  man,  sad 
dened  by  his  fiery  past. 

He  sees  nothing.  He  dreams  of  the  flag  which 
went  down  in  battle  and  storm.  The  flag  of  which 
Father  Ryan  sang — "  in  fond  recollection  of  a  dead 
brother  " — the  ill-fated  stars  and  bars  : 

"  Furl  that  banner,  for  'tis  weary, 
Round  its   staff  'tis  drooping  dreary. 

Furl  it,  fold  it,  it  is  best  ; 
For  there's  not  a  man  to  wave  it — 
And  there's  not  a  sword  to  save  it — 
And  there's  not  one  left  to  lave  it 
In  the  blood  which  heroes  gave  it ; 
And  its  foes  now  scorn  and  brave  it ; 

Furl  it,  hide  it;  let  it  rest." 


39$  LAGUNITAS. 

But  younger  and  brighter  eyes  than  his  own, 
dimmed  with  battle  smoke,  look  love  into  each 
other.  Louise  and  Armand  feel  the  throbbing 
whispers  of  the  lake  in  their  own  beating  hearts. 

Far  above  them  there,  the  silver  peaks  lift  unsul 
lied  altars  to  the  God  of  nature,  life,  and  love. 

And  as  the  rosy  flush  of  morning  touches  the 
Jungfrau,  as  the  tender  light  steals  along  the  sunlit 
peaks  of  the  Alps,  so  does  the  light  of  love  warm 
these  two  young  hearts.  Bounding  pulse  and  melting 
accent,  blush  of  morning  on  rosy  peak  and  maiden's 
cheek,  tell  of  the  dawning  day  of  light  and  love. 

Shy  and  sweet,  their  natures  mingle  as  two  rivu 
lets  flowing  to  the  sea.  Born  in  darkness  and  cold 
ness,  to  dance  along  in  warmth  and  sunlight,  and 
mingle  with  that  great  river  of  life  which  flows  to 
ward  the  unknown  sea. 

In  days. of  bliss,  in  weeks  of  happiness,  in  months 
of  heart  growth,  the  two  children  of  fortune  drink 
in  each  other's  eyes  the  philter  of  love.  They  are 
sworn  a  new  Paul  and  Virginia,  to  await  the  uncer 
tain  gifts  of  the  gods.  The  ardor  of  Armand  is  re 
flected  in  the  tender  fidelity  of  graceful  Louise-,  who 
is  a  radiant  woman  now. 

While  this  single  car  flies  out  of  Paris,  a  "  mau- 
vais  quart  d'heure  "  awaits  Ernesto  de  Villa  Rocca, 
at  the  hands  of  Natalie. 

Bounding  from  her  seat,  she  cries,  "  Imbecile 
fool,  you  have  ruined  both  of  us!  The  girl  is  lost 
now  !  " 

In  an  hour  the  Italian  evolves  a  new  plan.  Marie 
B£rard  shall  herself  find  and  abduct  the  child  !  The 
Comte  de  Villa  Rocca  will  escort  them  to  the  Ital- 


LAGUNITAS.  399 

ian  tower,  where  Natalie's  dangerous  ward  will  be 
lost  forever  to  Hardin. 

But  Marie  must  now  be  placated  !  Natalie  de 
Santos  smiles  as  she  points  to  a  plump  pocket- 
book. 

"A  magic  sceptre,  a  magnetic  charm,  my  dear 
Count."  Her  very  voice  trickles  with  gold. 

While  Ernesto  Villa  Rocca  and  his  promised 
bride  dine  in  the  lingering  refinement  of  a  Parisian 
table,  they  await  the  return  of  the  baffled  Marie. 
The  maid  has  gone  to  arrange  the  departure  of 
Louise.  No  suspicion  must  be  awakened !  Once 
under  way,  then  silence  ! — quietly  enforced.  Ah, 
chloroform  ! 

There  was  no  etiquette  in  the  sudden  return  of 
the  pale-faced  maid  ;  she  dashed  up,  in  a  carnage, 
while  the  lovers  dallied  with  the  dessert. 

"  Speak,  Marie!  What  has  happened?"  cries 
Natalie,  with  a  sinking  heart. 

"  Madame,  she  is  gone  !     Gone  forever  !  " 

Madame  de  Santos  bounds  to  the  side  of  the 
defeated  woman.  "  If  you  are  lying,  beware !  "  she 
hisses.  Her  hand  is  raised.  There  is  a  dagger 
flashing  in  the  air.  Villa  Rocca  wrests  it  from  the 
raging  woman's  hand.  "  No  folly,  madame  !  She 
speaks  the  truth  !  " 

Marie  stubbornly  tells  of  her  repulse.  Josephine 
was  "  not  alone  !  "  Blunt  Aristide  elbowed  her  out 
of  the  house,  saying: 

"  Be  off  with  you!  The  girl  is  gone!  If  you 
want  to  know  where  she  is,  apply  to  the  police. 
Now,  don't  show  your  lying  face  here  again !  I 
will  have  you  arrested  !  You  are  a  child  stealer ! 


40O  LAGUNITAS. 

You  and  your  'ruffian  had  better  never  darken  this 
door.  Go ! " 

Natalie  de  Santos  sinks  back  in  her  chair.  Her 
teeth  are  chattering.  A  cordial  restores  her  nerves. 
Count  Villa  Rocca  lingers,  moody  and  silent. 

What  powerful  adversary  has  baffled  them  ? 

"  Marie,  await  me  in  my  room ! "  commands 
Natalie.  In  five  minutes  the  roll  of  rubber-tired 
wheels  proves  that  madame  and  the  count  have 
gone  out.  "  To  the  opera?  "  "To  the  theatre?" 
The  sly  maid  does  not  follow  them.  Her  brain 
burns  with  a  mad  thirst  for  vengeance.  Her  hoard 
must  now  be  completed.  "  Has  she  been  tricked  ?  " 
"  Thousand  devils,  no  !" 

Softly  moving  over  the  driveway,  Natalie  eagerly 
pleads  with  Villa  Rocca.  Her  perfumed  hair 
brushes  his  cheek.  Her  eyes  gleam  like  diamonds, 
as  they  sweep  past  the  brilliantly  lighted  temples  of 
pleasure.  She  is  Phryne  and  Aspasia  to-night. 

Villa  Rocca  is  drunk  with  the  delirium  of  pas 
sion.  His  mind  reels. 

"  I  will  do  it,"  he  hoarsely  murmurs.  Arrived  at 
the  "  porte  cochere,"  the  count  lifts  his  hat,  as 
madame  reenters  her  home. 

There  is  a  fatal  glitter  in  Natalie's  eyes,  as  she 
enters  alone  her  robing  room. 

When  madame  is  seated  in  the  freedom  of  a  won 
derful  "  robe  de  chambre,"  her  face  is  expectant,  yet 
pleasant.  Marie  has  fulfilled  every  duty  of  the 
evening. 

"You  may  go,  Marie.  I  am  tired.  I  wish  to 
sleep,"  remarks  the  lady,  nonchalantly. 

"  Will  madame  pardon  me  ? 


LAGUNITAS.  40 1 

Marie's  voice  sounds  cold  and  strange.  Ah,  it 
has  come,  then  !  Natalie  has  expected  this.  What 
is  the  plot  ? 

Natalie  looks  her  squarely  in  the  eyes.  u  Well  ?  " 
she  says,  sharply. 

"  I  hope  madame  will  understand  that  I  close  my 
duties  here  to-night !  "  the  maid  slowly  says. 
"  Indeed  ?  "    Madame  lifts  her  eyebrows. 
"  I  would  be  glad  to  be   permitted   to  leave  the 
house  to-morrow." 

"  Certainly,  Marie ! "  quietly  rejoins  Natalie. 
"  You  may  leave  when  you  wish.  The  butler  will 
settle  your  account.  I  shall  not  ring  for  you  to 
morrow."  She  leans  back.  Checkmate  ! 

"  Will  rnadame  excuse  me  ?  "  firmly  says  the  maid, 
now  defiantly  looking  her  mistress  in  the  eyes. 
"  The  butler  can  probably  not  settle  my  little 
account." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  simply  asks  Madame  de  Santos. 
"It    is    one    hundred    thousand    francs,"    firmly 
replies  the  woman. 

"  I  shall  not  pay  it  !  decidedly  not !  "  the  lady 
answers. 

"  Very  good.     Judge  Hardin  might  !  " 
The  maid  moves  slowly  to  the  door. 
"  Stay  !  "  commands  Natalie.     "  Leave  my  house 
before  noon  to-morrow.     You  can   come  here  with 
any  friend  you  wish  at  this  hour  to-morrow  night. 
You  will  have  your  money.     How  do  you  wish  it  ?  " 
"  In  notes,"  the  maid  replies,  with  a  bow.     She 
walks  out  of  the  room.     She  pauses   at  the  thresh 
old.      "  Will  madame    ask  Georgette   to  look  over 
the  property  of  madame  ?  " 
26 


4O2  LAGUNTTAS. 

"  Certainly.     Send  her  to  me  !  " 

Marie  Berard  leaves  her  world-wearied  mistress, 
forever,  and  without  a  word. 

When  the  other  maid  enters,  madame  finds  need 
for  the  assistant.  "  You  may  remain  in  my  apart 
ment  and  occupy  the  maid's  couch.  I  may  want 
you.  I  am  nervous.  Stay  !  " 

The  under-maid  is  joyous  at  her  promotion. 
Madame  de  Santos  sleeps  the  sleep  of  the  just. 
Happy  woman  ! 

Marie  Berard  rages  in  her  room,  while  her  mis 
tress  sleeps  in  a  bed  once  used  by  a  Queen  of 
France. 

The  ticking  clock  drives  her  to  madness.  She 
throws  it  into  the  court-yard. 

Spurned!  foiled  !  baffled! 

Ah,  God  !  She  will  have  both  fortunes.  She 
remembers  that  little  paper  of  years  ago. 

Yes,  to  find  it  now.  Near  her  heart.  By  the 
candle,  she  reads  the  cabalistic  words  : 

"  Leroyne  &  Co.,  16  Rue  Vivienne." 

Was  it  an  imprudence  to  speak  of  Hardin  ?  No,  it 
was  a  mere  threat.  Marie's  cunning  eyes  twinkle. 
She  will  get  this  money  here  quietly.  Then,  to  the 
bank — to  the  bank!  Two  fortunes  at  one  u  coup." 

But  she  must  see  Jules!  Jules  Tessier !  He 
must  help  now ;  he  must  help.  And  how  ?  He 
is  at  the  Cafe  Ney. 

Yet  she  has  often  slipped  out  with  him  to  the 
"  bals  de  minuit."  A  friend  can  replace  him  ;  ser 
vants  keep  each  others'  secrets.  Victory  ! 

She  must  see  him  at  once.  Yes,  Jules  will  guide 
her.  He  can  go  to  the  bank,  afcter  she  has  received 


LAG  UN  IT  AS.  403 

her  money.  And  then  the  double  payment  and 
vengeance  on  madame  ! 

Like  lightning,  she  muffles  herself  for  the  voyage. 
A  coupe",  ten  minutes,  and  above  all — a  silent  exit. 
All  is  safe  ;  the  house  sleeps.  She  steals  to  her 
lover.  Jules  Tessier  starts,  seeing  Marie  in  the  ante 
room  at  the  Cafe  Ney.  There  are,  even  here,  curi 
ous  spies. 

Marie's  eyes  are  flashing ;  her  bosom  heaves. 
"  Come  instantly,  Jules!  it  is  the  hour.  My  coupe 
is  here." 

"  Mon  Dieu,  in  an  instant  !  "  The  sly  Jules 
knows  from  her  shaken  voice  the  golden  hoard  is  in 
danger. 

In  a  few  moments  he  is  by  her  side  in  the  coupe. 
"  Where  to  ?  "  huskily  asks  the  head-waiter. 

"To  the'bal   de  minuit.'    We  can   talk   there." 

"Aliens!  au  Jardin  Bullier,"  he  cries. 

Before  the  "fiacre"  stops,  Jules  has  an  idea  of 
the  situation.  Ah!  a  grand  "coup."  Jules  is  a 
genius  ! 

Seated  in  a  bosky  arbor,  the  two  talk  in  lowest 
tones  over  their  chicken  and  Burgundy. 

There  is  a  noisy  party  in  the  next  arbor,  but  a 
pair  of  dark  Italian  eyes  peer  like  basilisks  through 
the  leaves  of  the  tawdry  shade.  The  lovers  are  un 
conscious  of  the  listener. 

With  joint  toil,  the  pair  of  lovers  prepare  a  letter 
to  Leroyne  &  Co..  bankers,  16  Rue  Vivienne. 

Marie's  trembling  hand  draws  the  paper  from  her 
bosom.  She  knows  that  address  by  heart. 

"Give  it  to  me,  Marie,"  he  pleads,  "  for  safety." 
A  Frenchwoman  can  deny  her  lover  nothing. 


404  LAGUNITAS. 

u  Now,  listen,  'ma  cherie,'  "  Jules  murmurs.  "  You 
get  the  one  treasure.  To-morrow  I  go  to  the  bank, 
the  telegraph,  you  understand,  but  not  till  you  have 
the  other  money  safe."  Her  eyes  sparkle.  A  double 
fortune  !  A  double  revenge  !  A  veritable  "  coup  de 
Machiavelli." 

"  And  I  must  go,  dearest.  I  wait  for  you  to 
morrow.  You  get  your  money  ;  then  I  am  off  to  the 
bank,  and  we  will  secure  the  rest  Bravo  !  " 

Jules  snaps  his  fingers  at  the  imbeciles.  He  sees 
the  "  Hotel  Tessier  "  rising  in  cloudland. 

"  Press  this  proud  woman  hard  now.  Be  careful. 
I  will  pay  the  coup£  ;  we  might  be  followed." 

While  Jules  is  absent,  Marie  dreams  the  rosy 
dreams  of  fruition.  Love,  avarice,  revenge  ! 

Down  through  the  entrance,  they  saunter  singly. 
Both  are  Parisians.  After  a  square  or  two  brings 
them  to  night's  obscurity,  parting  kisses  seal  the 
dark  bond  ;  Judge  Hardin  shall  pay  after  madame  ; 
Marie's  velvet  hand  grips  Jules'  palm  in  a  sinful 
compact. 

Home  by  the  usual  way,  past  Notre  Dame,  and 
Jules  will  discreetly  watch  her  safety  till  she  reaches 
the  omnibus. 

She  knows  not  when  she  reaches  Notre  Dame 
that  Tessier  lies  behind  her,  stunned  upon  the  side 
walk,  his  pockets  rifled,  and  his  senses  reeling  under 
brutal  blows.  Her  heart  is  blithe,  for  here,  under 
the  shade  of  Notre  Dame,  she  is  safe.  Twenty  steps 
bring  her  to  the  glaring  street.  Yet  the  avenger 
has  panther  feet. 

Out  of  the  shadow,  in  a  moment,  she  will  be. 
"  Oh,  God  !  "  the  cry  smothers  in  her  throat.  Like 


LAGUNITAS.  405 

lightning,  stab  after  stab  in  her  back  paralyzes 
her. 

Bubbling  blood  from  her  quivering  lips,  Marie 
falls  on  her  face.  A  dark  shadow  glides  away,  past 
buttress  and  vaulted  door. 

Is  it  Villa  Rocca's  ready  Italian  stiletto  ? 


BOOK  V. 
REAPING  THE   WHIRLWIND. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

JOE   WOODS    SURPRISES   A    LADY.— LOVE'S   GOLDEN 

NETS. 

WHEN  a  cab  is  halted,  the  horses  shying  at  a 
prostrate  body,  knots  of  street  loungers  gather  at 
the  cries  of  the  discoverers  of  Marie  Berard's  body. 
The  "  sergents  de  ville "  raise  the  woman.  Her 
blood  stains  the  sidewalk,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
Church  of  Christ.  Twinkling  lights  flicker  on  her 
face.  A  priest  passing  by,  walks  by  the  stretcher. 
He  is  called  by  his  holy  office  to  pray  for  the  "  part 
ing  soul." 

It. is  Pere  Francois.  He  has  been  in  Notre  Dame. 
To  the  nearest  hospital  the  bearers  trudge.  It  is 
only  a  few  rods.  When  the  body  is  examined,  the 
pale  face  is  revealed.  Pere  Frangois  clasps  his 
hands. 

It  is,  indeed,  the  mysterious  guardian  of  Louise, 
stabbed  and  dying.  It  is  the  hand  of  fate ! 

Breathing    faintly,   the  poor   wretch    lies   prone. 


LAGUNITAS.  407 

There  is  no  apparent  clue  to  her  assailant.  She  is 
speechless.  It  has  not  been  robbery;  her  valuables 
are  intact.  Hastily  anointing  her,  Pere  Frangois 
departs.  He  promises  to  return  in  the  morning. 
He  hastens  to  the  nearest  cabstand,  and  whirls 
away  to  Colonel  Woods'  hotel.  Whose  hand  has 
dealt  this  blow  ?  The  financier  is  startled  at  the 
priest's  face.  Joseph  has  been  jocular  since  the 
safe  departure  of  Louise. 

He  listens.  A  prodigious  whistle  announces  his 
feelings.  "  Padre,"  says  he,  "  if  that  Frenchwoman 
is  alive  to-morrow,  you  must  see  her.  Find  out  all 
she  knows.  I'll  turn  out  at  daybreak,  and  watch 
Madame  Santos'  house  myself.  I  think  that  hand 
some  'she  devil '  had  something  to  do  with  this. 

"  Got  done  with  the  maid.  No  more  use  for  her. 
Now,  my  dear  friend,  I  will  be  here  to-morrow  when 
you  show  up.  We  will  interview  the  madame.  She's 
the  spider  in  this  game." 

Woods  sleeps  like  a  man  in  a  tossing  storm.  He 
knows  from  the  padre's  repeated  visits  at  the  Santos 
mansion  that  dying  Marie  holds  the  secret  of  these 
two  children's  lives.  If  she  could  only  talk. 

All  night  the  miner  battles  for  Valois'  unknown 
child. 

Up  with  the  lark,  Joe  sends  his  "  French  fellow  " 
for  detective  Vimont.  "  Voila !  un  grand  proces." 

Vimont  sees  gold  ahead. 

By  eight  o'clock,  ferret  eyes  are  watching  the 
Santos  mansion,  the  home  of  discreet  elegance. 

A  stunning  toilet  is  made  by  Joseph,  in  the  vain 
hope  of  impressing  the  madame.  He  will  face  this 
Lucrezia  Borgia  "  in  his  raiment  of  price."  He  has 


408  LAGUNITAS. 

a  dim  idea,  that  splendid  garb  will  cover  his  business 
like  manner  of  coming  to  u  first  principles." 

A  happy  man  is  he  at  his  well-ordered  dejeuner, 
for  though  Joe  is  no  De  Rohan  or  Montmorency, 
yet  he  eats  like  a  lord  and  drinks  like  a  prince 
of  the  blood.  He  is  the  "  first  of  his  family  " — a 
golden  fact. 

He  revenges  himself  daily  for  the  volunteer  cui 
sine  of  the  American  River.  Often  has  he  laughed 
over  haughty  Valois'  iron-clad  bread,  his  own  flinty 
beans,  the  slabs  of  pork,  cooked  as  a  burnt  offering 
by  slow  combustion.  Only  one  audacious  Yankee 
in  the  camp  ever  attempted  a  pie.  That  was  a  day 
of  crucial  experiment,  a  time  of  bright  hopes,  a 
period  of  sad  failure. 

Vimont  reports  at  noon.  A  visit  from  Villa 
Rocca  of  a  half-hour.  Sauntering  up  the  Elyse"es, 
after  his  departure,  the  count,  shadowed  carefully, 
strolled  to  his  club.  He  seemed  to  know  nothing. 
The  waxen  mask  of  Italian  smoothness  fits  him 
like  a  glove.  He  hums  a  pleasant  tune  as  he  strolls 
in.  The  morning  journals?  Certainly;  an  hour's 
perusal  is  worthy  the  attention  of  the  elegant 
"  flaneur."  Ah  !  another  murder.  He  enjoys  the 
details. 

Pere  Francois  enters  the  colonel's  rooms,  with 
grave  air.  While  Vimont  frets  over  his  cigar,  in 
the  courtyard,  the  story  of  Marie  Berard  is  partly 
told. 

She  will  not  live  through  the  night.  At  her  bed 
side,  Sisters  of  Charity  twain,  tell  the  beads  and 
watch  the  flickering  pulse  of  the  poor  lost  girl.  The 
police  have  done  their  perfunctory  work.  They  are 


LAGUNITAS.  409 

only  owls  frightened  by  sunlight.  Fools !  Skilful 
foois  !  She  knows  nothing  of  her  assailant.  Her 
feeble  motions  indicate  ignorance.  She  must  have 
rest  and  quiet.  The  saddened  Pere  Frangois  can 
not  disguise  from  Woods  that  he  suspects  much. 
Much  more  than  the  police  can  dream  in  their 
theories. 

What  is  it?  Hopes,  fears,  the  rude  story  of  a 
strange  life,  and  upon  it  all  is  the  awful  seal  of  the 
confessional.  For,  Marie  Berard  has  unfolded 
partly,  her  own  life-story.  Joe  Woods  clasps  the 
padre's  hands. 

"  You  know  which  of  these  children  is  a  million- 
heiress,  and  which  a  pauper?" 

The  padre's  eyes  are  blazing.  He  is  mute.  "  Let 
us  trust  to  God.  Wait,  my  friend,"  says  Pere  Fran 
gois  solemnly.  Before  that  manly  voice,  the  miner 
hushes  his  passionate  eagerness.  Violence  is  vain, 
here. 

It  seems  to  him  as  if  the  dead  mother  of  an  or 
phan  child  had  placed  her  hand  upon  his  brow  and 
said  :  "Wait  and  hope  !  " 

Monte  Cristo's  motto  once  more. 

The  padre  eyes  the  Comstock  colonel  under  his 
thin  lashes. 

"  My  friend  " — his  voice  trembles — "  I  can  tell  you 
nothing  yet,  but  I  will  guide  you.  I  will  not  see 
you  go  wrong." 

"  Square  deal,  padre  !  "  roars  Joseph,  with  mem 
ories  of  gigantic  poker  deals.  Irreverent  Joe. 

"  Square  deal,"  says  the  priest,  solemnly,  as  he 
lays  an  honest  man's  hand  in  that  of  its  peer.  He 
knows  the  Californian  force  of  this  appeal  to 


410  LAGUNITAS. 

honor.  Joseph  selects  several  cigars.  He  fusses 
with  his  neckgear  strangely. 

"  Vamos,  amigo,"  he  cries,  in  tones  learned  from 
the  muleteers  of  the  far  West. 

Once  in  the  halls  of  "  Madame  d^  Santos,"  Colo 
nel  Joe  is  the  pink  of  Western  elegance.  The 
acute  sense  of  the  Missourian  lends  him  a  certain 
dignity,  in  spite  of  his  gaudy  attire. 

Under  fire,  this  Western  pilgrim  can  affect  a 
"  sang  froid  "  worthy  of  Fontenoy. 

Radiant  in  white  clinging  "  crepe  de  Chine,"  her 
"  prononcee"  beauty  unaccentuated  by  the  baubles 
of  the  jeweller,  Madame  de  Santos  greets  the 
visitors. 

A  blue  circle  under  her  eyes  tells  of  a  vigil  of 
either  love  or  hate.  Speculation  is  vain.  The 
"  monde  "  has  its  imperial  secrets. 

Who  can  solve  the  equation  of  womanhood? 
Colonel  Joseph  is  effusive  in  his  cheery  greeting. 
"  My  dear  madame,  I  am  glad  to  be  in  Paris  once 
more."  He  would  charm  this  sphinx  into  life  and 
warmth.  Foolish  Joseph. 

"  We  all  are  charmed  to  see  you  safely  returned," 
murmurs  the  madame.  The  padre  is  studying  the 
art  treasures  of  the  incomparable  "  Salon  de 
Santos." 

"  I  have  some  messages  from  a  friend  of  yours," 
continues  Joseph,  strangely  intent  upon  the  narrow 
rim  of  his  hat. 

"  Ah,  yes !  Pray  who  remembers  me  so  many 
years?  " 

Joseph  fires  out  the  answer  like  a  charge  of  canis 
ter  from  a  Napoleon  gun:  "  Philip  Hardin." 


LAGUNITAS.  41 1 

The  lady's  lips  close.  There  is  a  steely  look  in 
her  eyes.  Her  hand  seeks  her  heaving  bosom.  Is 
there  a  dagger  there  ? 

"Useless,  my  lady."  There  are  two  men  here. 
The  padre  is  intent  upon  a  war  picture  of  Detaille. 
His  eyes  catch  a  mirror  showing  the  startled  woman. 

"  And— what— did— Mr.— Philip— Harclin  say  ?  " 
the  lady  gasps. 

"  He  asked  me  if  you  remembered  Hortense 
Duva'l,  the  Queen  of  the  El—  Natalie  reels  and 
staggers,  as  if  shot. 

"  By  God,  Lee  was  right !  "  cries  Woods.  He 
catches  her  falling  form.  The  first  and  only  time 
he  will  ever  hold  her  in  his  arms. 

"Padre,  ring  the   bell!"   cries  the  excited  miner. 

The  clock  ticks  away  noisily  in  the  hall.  The 
wondering  servants  bear  madame  to  her  rooms. 
All  is  confusion.  A  fainting  fit. 

"  Let's  get  out  of  here,"  whispers  Woods,  fright 
ened  by  his  own  bomb-shell. 

"  Stay  till  we  get  a  message  of  formality,"  mur 
murs  the  diplomatic  padre.  "  It  would  look  like 
violence  or  insult  to  leave  abruptly.  No  one  here 
must  suspect."  Joe  nods  gloomily  and  wipes  his 
brows. 

The  stately  butler  soon  expresses  the  regrets  of 
madame.  "  A  most  unforeseen  affair,  an  assault 
upon  one  of  her  discharged  servants,  has  tried  her 
nerves.  Will  Colonel  Woods  kindly  excuse  ma 
dame,  who  will  send  him  word  when  she  receives 
again  ?" 

"  Colonel  Woods  will  decidedly  excuse  madame." 
He  returns  to  his  hotel.  He  grieves  over  the  dark 


412  LAGUNITAS. 

shadows  cast  upon  her  suffering  loveliness.  "  By 
the  gods !  It's  a  shame  she  is  what  she  is"  he  mur 
murs  to  his  cigar.  Ah,  Joseph!  entangled  in  the 
nets  of  Delilah. 

In  a  few  days  the  spacious  apartments  of  Colonel 
Woods  have  another  tenant.  Bag  and  baggage  he 
has  quietly  departed  for  the  Pacific  Slope.  Pere 
Frangois  runs  on  to  Havre.  He  waves  an  adieu 
from  the  "quai."  It  would  not  be  possible  to  prove 
that  Colonel  Joe  has  not  gone  to  Switzerland. 
That  is  not  the  question,  however.  But  the  padre 
and  the  colonel  are  now  sworn  allies.  Joseph  is 
the  bearer  of  a  letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Cali 
fornia,  It  carries  the  heart  and  soul  of  Pere  Fran- 
gois.  The  great  Church  acts  now. 

"  My  dear  old  friend,"  says  Woods  in  parting,  "  I 
propose  to  keep  away  from  Paris  for  a  couple  of 
years  and  watch  Philip  Hardin's  handling  of  this 
great  estate.  Peyton  will  bring  the  girl  on,  when 
her  coming  of  age  calls  for  a  legal  settlement  of  the 
estate.  I  don't  want  to  strike  that  woman  down 
until  she  braves  me. 

"  I'm  going  to  lure  Madame  de  Santos  over  to 
California.  If  she  wants  to  watch  me,  I  will  be  on 
deck  every  time  there.  I'll  bring  Peyton  and  Louise 
Moreau  over  to  San  Francisco.  I  will  never  lose 
sight  of  that  child.  Judge  Davis  shall  now  run  my 
whole  game.  I  don't  ask  you  who  killed  that 
woman,  padre,  but  I  will  bet  the  de  Santos  knows 
the  hand  which  struck  the  blow. 

"  By  leaving  you,  Vimont,  to  watch  her,  you  may 
be  yet  able  to  catch  our  man.  We'll  let  her  bring 
forward  the  heiress  of  Lagunitas,  whom  she  stowed 


LAGUNITAS.  413 

away  in  the  convent.  Don't  spare  the  cash,  padre. 
You  can  use  what  you  want  from  my  bankers.  They 
will  cable  me  at  once,  at  your  wish.  Good-bye." 
Joe  Woods  is  off.  His  mind  is  bent  on  a  great 
scheme. 

Pere  Fran9ois  thinks  of  the  unavenged  murder  of 
the  poor  maid-servant.  She  is  now  sleeping  the  last 
sleep  in  Pere  la  Chaise.  Paris  has  its  newer  mys 
teries  already,  to  chase  away  her  memory — only  one 
more  unfortunate. 

Joe  gets  news  after  his  arrival  at  the  Golden 
Gate.  "  I  will  tell  you,  my  dear  friend,  that  a  large 
sum  of  money  was  due  to  this  woman  from  Madame 
de  Santos.  She  was  to  have  it  the  next  day.  I  can 
not  see  who  would  kill  her  to  prevent  her  getting 
money  from  a  prosperous  mistress.  She  was  mak 
ing  her  a  final  present  on  leaving  her  service. 
Madame  de  Santos  openly  admits  she  intended  to 
give  her  a  considerable  sum  of  money.  She  has 
acted  with  commendable  kindness  as  to  her  funeral. 
All  is  quiet.  The  police  are  baffled."  This  is  the 
priest's  letter. 

"  I  cannot,  at  present,  reveal  to  you  all  I  learned 
from  the  dying  penitent.  I  need  a  higher  permis 
sion.  I  have  given  you  an  order  to  receive  the 
original  Valois  marriage  papers,  and  the  baptismal 
and  birth  certificates  of  Isabel  Valois.  She  is  the 
only  child  of  Maxime  and  Dolores  Valois.  Louise 
Moreau  is  the  real  heiress,  in  my  opinion,  but  we 
must  prove  it.  I  shall  come  to  San  Francisco  to 
watch  the  sequel  of  the  guardianship  of  the  rightful 
heiress. 

"  One  person   alone  can   now  positively  swear   to 


414  LAGUNITAS. 

this  child.  I  shall  watch  that  defiant  woman,  until 
she  goes  to  California." 

High  life  in  Paris  rolls  on  golden  wheels  as  always. 
Ernesto  Villa  Rocca  is  a  daily  visitor  at  the  Santos 
residence.  A  change  has  been  inaugurated  by  the 
death  of  Marie  Berard. 

There  is  a  lovely  girl  there  now,  whose  beauty 
shines  out  even  by  the  side  of  Natalie  the  peerless. 
The  heiress  is  at  home.  Not  even  to  Villa  Rocca 
does  Natalie  confide  herself.  The  disappearance  of 
Louise  Moreau  startles  her  yet.  The  sudden  death 
of  Marie  brings  her  certain  advantages  in  her  once 
dangerous  position.  She  has  no  fear  to  boldly  with 
draw  the  blooming  Isabel  Valois,  so  called,  from  the 
"  Sacre  Cceur,"  now  she  has  learned  that  the  legal 
control  of  the  child  can  only  be  taken  from  her  by 
Hardin  himself.  He  will  never  dare  to  use  open 
force  as  regards  her.  No !  fear  will  restrain  him. 
The  dark  bond  of  the  past  prevents. 

But  by  fraud  or  artifice,  yes !  To  defeat  any 
possible  scheme,  she  surrounds  the  young  girl  with 
every  elegance  of  instruction  and  accomplishment. 
She  watches  her  like  a  tigress  guarding  its  young. 
But  by  her  side,  in  her  own  home,  the  young 
"  claimant  "  will  be  surely  safe.  Hardin  fears  any 
public  denouncement  of  his  schemes.  Open  scan 
dal  is  worse  than  secret  crime,  in  the  high  circles  he 
adorns. 

Count  Ernesto  Villa  Rocca  does  not  plead  imme 
diately  for  madame's  hand.  Wise  Italian.  "  Chi 
va  piano  va  sano."  Since  the  fateful  evening  when 
he  promised  to  do  a  certain  deed  of  blood  for 
Natalie,  his  ardor  has  chilled  a  little.  "  Particeps 


LAGUNITAS.  415 

criminis."  He  revolves  the  whole  situation.  With 
cool  Italian  astuteness,  he  will  wait  a  few  months, 
before  linking  himself  to  the  rich  lady  whose  confi 
dential  maid  was  so  mysteriously  murdered.  There 
has  been  no  hesitation,  on  his  part,  to  accept  a  large 
sum  of  money  from  Natalie.  Besides,  his  eye  rests 
with  burning  admiration  on  the  young  girlish 
beauty.  Her  loveliness  has  the  added  charms  of 
untold  millions,  in  her  future  fortune.  A  prize. 
Does  he  dare?  Ernesto  Villa  Rocca  cannot  fathom 
the  mysterious  connection  between  the  guardian 
siren  and  her  charge.  Would  he  be  safe  to  depend 
upon  Madame  de  Santos*  fortune?  He  knows  not. 
Has  not  the  young  girl  a  greater  value  in  his  eyes? 

Seated  in  the  boudoir  of  Natalie,  with  bated 
breath,  Villa  Rocca  has  told  Natalie  what  he  ex 
pects  as  a  reward  for  freeing  her  from  Marie. 

Natalie  hails  the  expiration  of  the  minority  of  the 
"  daughter  of  the  Dons."  The  millions  will  now 
fall  under  her  own  control.  Power  ! — social  power  ! 
concrete  power  ! 

The  most  urgent  appeals  to  her  from  Hardin 
cannot  make  her  leave  France.  Hardin  storms. 
He  threatens.  He  implores.  He  cannot  leave  Cali 
fornia  and  go  to  France  himself.  The  wily  wretch 
knows  that  Natalie  there  will  have  a  local  advantage 
over  him.  Month  after  month  glides  away.  Sword- 
play  only.  Villa  Rocca,  dallying  with  Natalie,  gloats 
over  the  beauties  of  the  ward. 

Armand  Valois,  by  invitation  of  Colonel  Peyton, 
has  decided  to  spend  a  year  or  so  in  Switzerland 
and  Germany,  painting  and  sketching.  Louise 
Moreau  soons  becomes  a  proficient  amateur  artist. 


416  LAGUNITAS. 

She  wanders  on  the  lovely  shores  of  the  lake,  with 
the  gifted  young  American.  Love  weaves  its  golden 
web.  Joined  heart  and  soul,  these  children  of  for 
tune  whisper  their  love  by  the  throbbing  bosom  of 
the  lake. 

It  is  with  the  rare  genius  of  her  sly  nature, 
a  happy  thought,  that  Madame  de  Santos  re 
quests  the  chivalric  Raoul  Dauvray  to  instruct 
her  own  ward  in  modelling  and  sketching.  It  will 
keep  her  mind  busy,  and  content  the  spirited  girl. 
She  must  save  her  from  Villa  Rocca.  Dauvray  is 
'also  a  painter  of  no  mean  talent.  A  studio  is  soon 
arranged.  The  merry  girl,  happy  at  her  release 
fuom  convent  walls,  spends  pleasant  hours  with  the 
ex-Zouave.  Drifting,  drifting  daily  down  happy 
hours  to  the  knowledge  of  their  own  ardent  feelings. 

Natalie  absolutely  debars  all  other  visitors  from 
meeting  her  young  ward.  Only  her  physician  and 
Pere  Frangois  can  watch  these  studio  labors.  jShe 
fears  Hardin's  emissaries  only. 

Many  visits  to  the  studio  are  made  by  Villa 
Rocca.  He  is  a  lover  of  the  "  beaux-arts." 

The  days  fly  by  pleasantly.  Natalie  is  playing  a 
cool  game  now.  Pere  Frangois  and  Raoul  Dauvray 
are  ever  in  her  charmed  circle.  She  dare  not  refuse 
the  friendship  of  the  inscrutable  priest.  She 
watches,  cat-like,  for  some  sign  or  token  of  the  ab 
sent  Louise  Moreau.  Nothing.  Colonel  Joseph's 
sagacity  has  arranged  all  communication  from  the 
Swiss  lakes,  through  his  trusted  banker.  It  is  a 
blind  trail. 

Vimont,  eying  Natalie  and  Villa  Rocca  keenly, 
reports  that  he  cannot  fathom  their  relations. 


LAGUNITAS.  417 

Guilty  lovers?  No.  There  is  no  obstacle  at  all  to 
their  marriage.  Then  why  not  a  consummation  ? 
"Accomplices?"  "In  what  crime?"  "Surely 
none  !  "  The  count  is  of  station  undoubted.  A 
member  of  the  Jockey  Club.  Natalie  de  Santos 
speaks  frankly  to  Pere  Frangois  of  her  obligations 
to  the  dead  woman.  That  mysterious  assailant  still 
defies  the  famed  police  of  Paris. 

Yet  around  Madame  de  Santos  a  web  of  intrigue 
is  woven,  which  even  her  own  keen  eyes  do  not 
ferret  out. 

Strange  woman-heart.  Lonely  and  defiant,  yet 
blind,  she  thinks  she  guards  her  control  of  the  bud 
ding  heiress,  "  Isabel  Valois."  Waiting? 

In  the  studio,  handsome  Raoul  Dauvray  bends 
glowing  eyes  on  the  clay  which  models  the  classic 
beauty  of  Isabel  Valois.  The  sabre  scar  on  his 
bronzed  face  burns  red  as  he  directs  the  changes  of 
his  lovely  model.  Neither  a  Phryne  nor  an  Aphro 
dite,  but  "  the  Unawakened  Venus." 

A  dreamy  light  flickers  in  her  eyes,  as  she  meets 
the  burning  gaze  of  an  artist  lover. 

Fighting  hard  against  the  current,  the  heiress  of 
millions  affects  not  to  understand. 

It  is  "  Monsieur  Raoul,"  "  Mademoiselle  Isabel ;  " 
and  all  the  while,  their  hearts  beat  in  unison. 

Raoul,  soldier-artist,  Frenchman,  and  lover,  dis 
sembles  when  Villa  Rocca  is  present.  There  is  a 
strange  constraint  in  the  girl's  dark  eyes,  as  her 
idle  hands  cross  themselves,  in  unconscious  pose, 
when  they  are  alone. 

"  Lift  your  eyes  a  little,  mademoiselle.  Look 
steadily  at  me,"  is  his  gentle  request.  He  can  hear 
27 


41 8  LAGUNITAS. 

the   clock   tick  as  if  its  beat  was  the  fall  of  a  trip 
hammer. 

When  even  his  fastidious  task  can  no  longer  de 
lay,  he  says,  as  the  afternoon  sun  gilds  the  dome  of 
the  Invalides,  throwing  down  his  graver,  "  Je  n'en 
puis  plus,  mademoiselle.  It  is  finished.  I  will  re 
lease  you  now." 

As  Raoul  throws  the  cloth  over  the  clay  model, 
Isabel  passes  him  with  a  gasp,  and  gazes  with  set 
face  from  the  window. 

His  bursting  heart  holds  him  back.  There  is  no 
longer  an  excuse. 

"  And  I  shall  see  you  no  more,  Monsieur  Raoul  ?  " 
the  heiress  of  millions  softly  says. 

"  Not  till  this  is  in  marble,  mademoiselle.  A  poor 
artist  does  not  mingle  in  your  own  gay  world." 

"  But  a  soldier  of  France  is  welcome  everywhere," 
the  girl  falters. 

A  mist  rises  to  Raoul's  eyes.  He  bears  the  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor  on  his  breast.  The  perfume 
from  her  hair  is  blown  across  his  face.  "  Les 
violettes  de  Parme."  The  artist  sinks  in  the 
soldier. 

Springing  to  the  window,  the  girl's  assenting 
hand,  cold  as  ice,  is  clasped  in  his  palm. 

"Isabel!"  he  cries.  She  trembles  like  a  leaf. 
"  May  the  soldier  ask  what  the  artist  would  not 
dare?"  He  is  blind  with  passion. 

The  lovely  dark-eyed  girl  turns  a  splendid  face 
upon  him,  her  eyes  filled  with  happy  tears,  and  cries  : 

"  Captain,  you  saved  my  life  !  " 

The  noisy  clock  ticks  away  ;  the  only  sound 
beside  its  clang  is  the  beating  hearts  which  close  in 


LAGUNITAS.  419 

love's  first  embrace,  when  the  soldier  knows  he  has 
won  the  heart  of  the  Pearl  of  Paris. 

"Your  rank,  your  millions,  your  guardian  !  The 
Count  Villa  Rocca,  my  enemy  !  "  he  hoarsely 
whispers. 

The  clinging  beauty  hands  him  the  ribbon  from 
her  throat. 

"  Claim  me  with  this ! "  she  cries  as  his  arms 
enfold  her. 

The  dream  of  young  love  ;  first  love  ;  true  love. 

Every  obstacle  fades  away:  Lagunitas'  millions; 
proud  guardian  ;  scheming  duenna ;  watchful  Villa 
Rocca.  The  world  is  naught  to  the  two  whose  arms 
bind  the  universe  in  love's  golden  circle. 

Raoul  murmurs  to  the  glowing  maiden  in  his 
arms : 

"  And  can  you  trust  me  ?  " 

The  splendid  beauty  clasps  him  closer,  whispering 
softly  : 

"  A  Spanish  girl  loves  once  and  to  the  death." 

"  But,  darling,"  she  falters,  as  her  arms  cling 
closer,  "  we  must  wait  and  hope  !  " 

A  letter  from  Philip  Hardin  arrives,  in  the  gayest 
midwinter  of  a  rejuvenated  Paris.  The  time  for 
decisive  action  has  arrived.  Natalie  revolves  every 
clause  of  Hardin's  proposition  in  her  mind. 

In  less  than  a  year  the  now  blooming  Isabel  will 
be  eighteen  years  of  age.  The  accounting— 

Hardin  is  trying  now  to  cut  the  legal  Gordian 
knot.  His  letter  reads  as  follows  : 

I  have  determined  to  make  you  a  proposition  which  should 
close  all  our  affairs.  It  should  leave  no  cause  for  complaint. 
I  need  Isabel  Valois  here.  You  will  not  trust  yourself  in 


420  LAGUNITAS. 

America  with  our  past  relations  unsettled.  I  shall  not  force 
you,  but  I  must  do  my  duty  as  guardian. 

You  are  worthy  of  a  settlement.  No  one  knows  you  here 
now.  Marry  Villa  Rocca.  Come  here  with  Isabel.  I  will 
give  you  jointly  a  forjLune  which  will  content  you.  I  will  settle 
upon  your  child  the  sum  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
to  be  paid  over  to  her  use  when  of  age.  If  you  marry  Villa 
Rocca  now,  I  will  give  him  the  drafts  for  the  child's  money. 
If  you  decide  to  marry  him,  you  may  ask  him  to  visit  me  here, 
as  your  agent.  I  will  show  him  where  your  own  property  is 
located,  to  the  extent  of  half  a  million  dollars.  This  is  to  be 
turned  over  to  you  and  him  jointly,  when  you  are  man  and 
wife.  This  will  satisfy  his  honor  and  his  rank.  Otherwise,  I 
shall  soon  cease  my  remittances.  You  may  not  be  willing  to 
do  as  I  wish,  but  the  heiress  must  be  returned  to  me,  or  you 
and  your  child  will  remain  without  means. 

Your  marriage  will  be  my  safeguard  and  your  own  estab 
lishment.  Tell  Villa  Rocca  any  story  of  your  life  ;  I  will  con 
firm  and  prove  it.  I  shall  name  my  bankers  as  trustee  to  join 
with  any  person  you  name  for  your  child.  The  principal  to  be 
paid  over  to  her  on  her  marriage,  to  her  own  order.  She 
can  take  any  name  you  choose,  except  mine.  If  this  is  sat 
isfactory,  cable  to  me,  "Accepted;  agent  coming."  Send  a 
letter  by  your  agent,  with  a  private  duplicate  to  me,  with 
your  wishes.  HARDIN. 

Natalie  stands  face  to  face  with  a  life's  decision. 
Can  she  trust  Villa  Rocca?  By  the  dark  bond  of 
crime  between  them  she  must.  A  poor  bond  of 
crime.  And  the  millions  of  Lagunitas.  To  yield 
them  up.  A  terrible  temptation. 

In  her  boudoir,  Villa  Rocca  sums  up  with  light 
ning  flashes,  the  merits  of  this  proposition.  It  is 
partly  unfolded  to  him  by  the  woman,  who  holds 
his  pledge  to  marry  her.  "  She  must  settle  her  af 
fairs/'  It  is  a  good  excuse.  He  smiles,  as  he  says  : 

"  Madonna    mia,  in    whose   name  will  this  prop- 


LAGUNITAS.  421 

erty  be  placed,  if  I  make  you  Countess  Villa 
Rocca?" 

"  In  our  joint  names,  with  benefit  to  the  survivor," 
she  replies. 

"  If  arranged  in  even  sums  on  each  of  us,  with  a 
reversion  to  me,  if  you  die  childless,  I  will  accept. 
I  will  go  to  California,  and  bring  the  deposit  for  the 
missing  child.  I  can  make  every  arrangement  for 
your  lawyer.  We  can  go  over  together  and  marry 
there,  when  you  restore  the  heiress  next  year  to  her 
guardian."  A  bargain,  a  compact,  and  a  bond  of 
safety.  It  suits  both. 

The  lady  despatches  to  Hardin  her  acceptance  of 
his  proposal.  In  preparing  a  letter  to  the  Judge 
she  gives  her  "  fiance  "  every  instruction.  She  per 
mits  him  to  mail  the  duplicate,  carefully  compared. 

In  a  week,  Count  Ernesto  is  tossing  on  the  billows 
of  the  Atlantic.  He  is  a  fashionable  Columbus.  He 
is  sufficiently  warned  to  be  on  his  guard  in  conver 
sation  with  the  wily  Hardin.  Natalie  is  far-seeing. 

Villa  Rocca  laughed  as  he  embraced  his  future 
bride.  "Trust  an  Italian,  in  finesse,  cara  mia." 

It  is  arranged  between  the  two  that  Hardin  is  to 
have  no  hint  of  the  character,  appearance,  or  where 
abouts  of  the  child  who  receives  the  bounty.  The 
letter  bears  the  name  of  "Irene  Duval "  as  the 
beneficiary  of  the  fund.  A  system  of  correspondence 
is  devised  between  them.  Villa  Rocca,  using  his 
Italian  consul  at  San  Francisco  as  a  depositary,  will 
be  sure  to  obtain  his  letters.  He  will  write  to  a 
discreet  friend  in  Paris.  Perhaps  a  spy  on  herself, 
Natalie  muses. 

Still    she   must    walk   hand    in    hand    with  Villa 


422  LAGUNITAS. 

Rocca,  a  new  sharer  of  her  secret.  But  he  dare 
not  talk. 

When  these  two  have  said  their  last  adieux,  when 
Natalie  sums  up  her  lonely  thoughts,  she  feels,  with 
a  shudder  for  the  future,  that  not  a  shade  of  tender 
ness  clings  around  this  coming  marriage.  Mutual 
passion  has  dissipated  itself.  There  is  a  self- 
consciousness  of  meeting  eyes  which  tells  of  that 
dark  work  under  the  gloomy  buttresses  of  Notre 
Dame.  Murder — a  heavy  burden  ! 

Can  they  trust  each  other?  They  must.  The 
weary  secret  of  unpunished  crime  grows  heavier,  day 
by  day.  In  losing  a  tyrant,  in  the  maid,  will  she 
not  gain  a  colder  master  in  the  man  she  marries? 
Who  knows? 

Natalie  Santos  realizes  that  she  has  no  legal  proof 
whose*  hand  struck  that  fatal  blow.  But  Villa 
Rocca  can  expose  her  to  Hardin.  A  fatal  weakness. 
The  anxious  woman  realizes  what  her  false  position 
and  idle  luxury  cost  in  heartache.  It  is  life  ! 

The  roses  turn  to  ashes  on  her  cheeks  as  she 
paces  her  lonely  rooms.  Restless  and  weary  in  the 
Bois,  she  is  even  more  dull  and  "  distraite"  in  society. 
The  repression  of  her  secret,  the  daily  presence  of 
the  daughter  she  dares  not  own,  all  weary  her  heart 
and  soul.  She  feels  that  her  power  over  Hardin 
will  be  gone  forever  when  the  heiress  enters  upon 
her  rights.  Has  the  child  learned  to  love  another? 
Her  life  is  barren,  a  burning  waste. 

Money,  with  its  myriad  luxuries,  must  be  gained 
by  the  marriage  with  Villa  Rocca.  To  see  her 
child  inherit  an  honored  name,  and  in  possession 
of  millions,  will  be  revenge  enough  upon  Philip 


LAGUNITAS.  423 

Hardin.  He  never  shall  know  the  trutli  while  he 
lives.  Once  recognized,  Isabel  Valois  cannot  be 
defeateo!  in  her  fortune.  Marie  is  dead.  The  only 
one  who  might  wish  to  prove  the  change  of  the 
two  children,  Hardin  himself,  knows  not.  He  must 
take  her  word.  She  is  invincible. 

Pere  Frangois  becomes  a  greater  comfort  to  her 
daily.  The  graceful  priest  brings  with  him  an  air 
of  peace  into  the  gaudy  palace  on  the  Elyse"  es.  She 
softens  daily. 

Raoul  Dauvray  has  finished  the  artistic  labors  of 
his  commissions.  He  is  now  only  an  occasional 
visitor.  If  he  has  the  love  of  the  heiress  he  dares 
not  claim  her  yet.  The  fiery  Zouave  chafes  in  vain. 
Natalie  holds  him  off.  Pere  Francois  whispers, 
"  Wait  and  hope  !  " 

With  the  blindness  of  preoccupation,  Natalie  sees 
not  how  the  tendrils  of  "  first  love  "  have  filled  the 
girl's  heart.  The  young  soldier-artist  rules  that 
gentle  bosom.  Love  finds  its  ways  of  commune. 
Marriage  seems  impossible  for  years.  Isabel  must 
mount  her  "  golden  throne  "  before  suitors  can  come 
to  woo.  A  sculptor  !  The  idea  is  absurd. 

Not  a  single  trace  is  left  of  "  Louise  Moreau." 
Natalie's  lip  curls  as  she  fathoms  the  motive  of  the 
girl's  disappearance.  Friends  of  Marie  Berard's 
have  probably  secreted  her,  as  a  part  of  the  old 
scheme  of  blackmail  upon  her.  Did  the  secret  die 
with  her  ?  It  is  fight  now.  She  muses  :  "  Now 
they  may  keep  her.  The  seal  of  the  grave  is  on 
the  only  lips  which  could  tell  the  story  of  Lagunitas." 
Villa  Rocca  even,  does  not  know  who  the  child  was  ! 
His  evidence  would  be  valueless. 


424  LAGUNITAS. 

If — yes,  if  the  Dauvray  household  should  seek 
to  fathom  the  history  of  the  waif,  how  like  an  every 
day  history  is  the  story  in  reply  : 

"  Marie  Berard  wished  to  disembarrass  herself  of 
her  fatherless  child.  She  yet  wished  to  hold  some 
claim  on  the  future  in  its  behalf.  That  explains 
Louise  Moreau's  motives."  There  is  a  high  wall  of 
defence  around  her  whole  position.  Her  own  child 
dead  ;  but  where,  or  how  ?  She  must  invent.  Walls 
have  been  scaled,  my  Lady  of  the  Castle  Danger 
ous.  The  enemy  is  mining  under  your  defences,  in 
silence. 

With  Villa  Rocca's  nerve  and  Italian  finesse,  even 
Hardin  can  be  managed.  If  he  should  die,  then 
the  dark  secret  of  her  child's  transformation  is  safe 
forever ! 

Days  fly  by.  Time  waits  for  no  aching  hearts. 
There  is  a  smile  of  satisfaction  on  the  lovely  face  of 
Natalie.  She  peruses  the  letters  from  Hardin  and 
the  count.  They  announce  the  arrangement  of  the 
dower  for  the  absent  "  Irene  Duval."  Villa  Rocca  is 
in  San  Francisco.  The  count  forwards  one  set  of  the 
drafts,  without  comments.  He  only  says  he  will 
bring  the  seconds,  and  thirds  of  exchange  himself. 
He  is  going  to  come  "  home." 

He  announces  his  departure  to  the  interior  with 
Judge  Hardin.  He  wishes  to  see  the  properties  and 
interests  held  for  Madame  de  Santos  by  her  lawyer. 

In  a  month  he  will  be  on  his  homeward  way  ; 
Judge  Hardin  has  loyally  played  his  part.  Villa 
Rocca's  letters  prove  his  respect  for  a  bride  who 
brings  him  a  half  million.  The  letters  warm  visibly. 
Even  an  Italian  count  can  be  impressed  by  solid 


LAGUN1TAS.  425 

wealth.  Natalie  de  Santos's  lips  curl  in  derision  of 
man.  Her  clouded  history  is  now  safe.  Yes,  the 
golden  glitter  of  her  ill-gotten  fortune  will  cover  all 
inquiry  as  to  the  late  "  Seftor  de  Santos,"  of  shad 
owy  memory.  She  is  safe  ! 

It  is  only  a  fair  exchange  of  courtesy.  She  has 
not  investigated  the  family  stories  of  the  noble  Villa 
Rocca. 

Cool,  suave,  polished  ;  accepted  at  the  clubs  as  a 
man  of  the  world  ;  an  adept  with  rapier  and  pistol  ; 
Ernesto  Villa  Rocca  bears  his  social  coronet  as 
bravely  as  the  premier  duke  of  France — always  on 
guard  ! 

"  Does  she  love  this  man  ?"  Natalie  looks  in  her 
glass.  From  girlhood  she  has  been  hunted  for  her 
beauty.  Now  a  fortune,  title,  and  the  oblivion  of 
years  will  aid  her  in  reigning  as  a  mature  queen. 
A  "  mondaine  "  with  no  entanglements.  Paradise 
opens. 

Liberal  in  works  of  charity,  the  adventuress  can 
glide  easily  into  religion.  Once  her  feet  firmly 
planted,  she  will  "  assume  that  virtue,  if  she  have  it 
not." 

"  And  then — and  after  all !  "  The  last  tableaux 
before  the  curtain  falls.  The  pall  of  sable  velvet. 
Natalie  shudders.  She  remakes  her  toilet  and  drives 
to  the  opera. 

"  After  all,  social  life  is  but  a  play."  Her  heart 
beats  high  with  pride.  Villa  Rocca's  return  with 
the  funds  will  be  only  a  prelude  to  their  union. 
But  how  to  insure  the  half  million  ?  "  How  ?  " 

The  count's  greed  and  entire  union  in  interest 
with  her  will  surely  hold  him  faithtul. 


426  LAGUNITAS. 

She  will  marry  Ernesto  as  soon  as  he  returns.  She 
can  trust  him  with  the  heiress  until  the  property  is 
settled  on  the  married  lovers. 

Hardin,  when  Jules  Tessier's  addled  brains  are 
restored  by  careful  nursing,  receives  a  document 
from  Leroyne  &  Co.,  which  rouses  his  inmost  soul. 

Jules  Tessier,  handsome  brute,  chafes  under  the 
loss  of  the  double  blackmail.  "  Two  hundred  thou 
sand  francs,"  and  his  Marie. 

To  add  to  his  anguish,  he  knows  not  where  or 
under  what  name,  Marie  has  deposited  her  own 
golden  hoard.  The  "Hotel  Tessier  "has  gone  to 
Cloudland  with  the  other  "  chateaux  en  Espagne  " 
—the  two  payments  are  lost  !  Jules  rages  at  know 
ing  that  even  the  savings  of  murdered  Marie  are 
lost  to  him.  Even  if  found,  they  cannot  be  his  by 
law.  The  ruffians  who  robbed  him  of  everything, 
have  left  no  trace. 

The  two  weeks  passed  tossing  on  a  hospital  bed, 
have  been  lost  to  the  police.  Dimly  Jules  remem 
bers  .the  sudden  assault.  Crashing  blows  raining 
down  upon  him  !  Not  a  scrap  of  paper  is  left.  The 
fatal  letter  to  Leroyne  &  Co.  is  gone. 

The  police  question  the  artful  Jules. 

He  holds  the  secret  of  Leroyne  &  Co.  to  himself. 

He  may  yet  get  a  handsome  bribe  to  tell  even 
the  meagre  facts  he  knows.  Marie  B6rard's  case  is 
one  of  the  reigning  sensations.  Her  lips  are  now 
sealed  in  death. 

The  baffled  police  only  see  in  the  visit  to  the  "  bal 
de  minuit,"  a  bourgeois  intrigue  of  ordinary  char 
acter. 

Jules    dares    not    tell    all.       He    fears   the    stern 


LAGUNITAS.  427 

French  law.  Tossing  on  his  bed  of  pain,  his  only 
course  is  to  secretly  visit  Leroyne  &  Co. 

The  bereaved  lover  feels  that  the  parties  who  fol 
lowed  him,  were  directed  by  some  malign  agency 
which  is  fraught  with  future  danger  for  him. 

The  poniard  of  darkness  may  reach  his  heart,  if 
he  betrays  his  designs. 

Strongly  suspecting  Natalie  de  Santos,  yet  he 
knows  her  revenge  struck  through  meaner  hands 
than  her  own. 

He  has  no  proof.  Not  a  clue.  Villa  Rocca  is  to 
him  unknown.  He  fears  to  talk. 

He  hobbles  forth  to  his  vocation,  and  dares  not 
even  visit  Marie's  grave. 

Spies  may  track  him  as  on  that  fatal  night.  And 
even  Leroyne's  bank  may  be  watched. 

He  must  take  this  risk,  for  his  only  reward  lies  in 
that  mysterious  address. 

Jules,  in  workman's  blouse,  spends  an  hour  with 
the  grave-faced  banker  of  the  Rue  Vivienne. 

When  he  emerges,  he  has  ten  one-thousand-franc 
notes  in  his  waist-lining  and  the  promise  of  more. 

The  banker  knows  the  whole  story  of  Jules' 
broken  hopes;  of  the  promised  reward;  the  double 
crime. 

Pie  directs  Jules  Tessier  to  further  await  orders 
at  the  cafe,  and  to  ignore  the  whole  affair. 

A  significant  hint  about  going  forth  at  night 
makes  Jules  shudder.  And  the  cipher  cablegram 
gives  Hardin  the  disjointed  facts  of  Marie's  death  ! 
His  one  ally  gone.  Her  lips  sealed  forever. 

Musing  in  his  library,  Hardin's  clear  head  un 
ravels  this  intrigue.  The  Paris  police  know  not  the 


428  LAGUNITAS. 

past  history  of  the  actors  in  this  drama.  Jules  is 
simply  greedy  and  thick-headed.  Leroyne  &  Co. 
are  passionless  bankers. 

But  Hardin  gathers  up  the  knotted  threads  and 
unravels  all. 

Accustomed  to  weigh  evidence,  to  sift  facts,  his 
clear  mind  indicates  Natalie  de  Santos  as  the  brain, 
Villa  Rocca  as  the  striking  assassin  of  this  plot. 

It  is  all  aimed  at  him. 

"  Ah,  yes !  "  the  chafing  lawyer  muses,  as  he 
walks  the  legal  quarter-deck  of  his  superb  library. 
"  Villa  Rocca  and  Natalie  are  lovers.  The  girl 
tried  to  blackmail  them.  She  was  trapped  and  put 
out  of  the  way. 

"  Marie  Berard  dead — one  dangerous  ally  gone. 
Villa  Rocca  and  Natalie  are  the  only  two  who  know 
all.  Her  mind  is  his  now. 

"  Ah,  I  have  it  !  "  with  a  devilish  sneer.  "  I  will 
separate  these  two  billing  and  cooing  lovers.  If  I 
get  Villa  Rocca  here,  he  will  never  get  back  to 
France. 

"  When  he  is  out  of  the  way,  Natalie  can  prove 
nothing. 

"  If  she  comes  here  I  will  treat  her  story  as  that 
of  an  insane  woman." 

Hardin  draws  a  glass  with  shaking  hand. 

"  Yes  ;  a  private  asylum." 

As  for  the  heiress,  there  are  plans  in  his  mind  he 
dare  not  whisper. 

Illegitimacy  and  other  reasons  may  bar  her  rights. 
The  heiress  knows  nothing  and  she  has  not  a  paper. 

Some  outsider  must  fight  this  case. 

In    Hardin's   dreams  he  sees  his  enemies  at  his 


LAGUNITAS.  429 

feet.  On  Ernesto  Villa  Rocca's  handsome  face  is 
the  pallor  of  death.  Lagunitas  and  its  millions  are 
his  by  right  of  power  and  cunning. 

Marie  Be"rard's  avenger  is  thousands  of  miles  away 
from  her  grave,  and  his  cunning  plan  already  woven 
to  ensnare  the  Italian  when  off  his  guard.  Yet 
Hardin's  blood  boils  to  feel  that  "  the  secret  for  a 
price  "  is  buried  in  Marie  Be"rard's  grave.  Toss  as 
he  may,  his  dreams  do  not  discover  the  lost  secret. 
Even  Philip  Hardin  may  meet  a  Nemesis. 

Villa  Rocca,  slain  by  a  well-contrived  accident, 
died  for  a  secret  he  knew  not. 

His  own  hand  slew  the  woman  who  knew  alone  of 
the  changelings,  save  the  bright  and  defiant  ex- 
queen  of  the  El  Dorado. 

Dark  memories  hover- around  some  of  the  great 
mines  of  the  Pacific.  Giant  stock  operations  re 
sulted  from  a  seeming  accidental  fire.  A  mine 
filled  with  water  by  mysterious  breakage  of  huge 
pumps.  Hoisting  machinery  suddenly  unmanage 
able  ;  dashing  to  their  doom  unsuspecting  wretches. 
Imprisoned  miners,  walled  up  in  rich  drifts,  have 
died  under  stifling  smoke,  so  that  their  secrets 
would  die  with  them. 

Grinning  Molochs  of  finance  have  turned  markets 
on  these  ghastly  tricks. 

Madame  de  Santos  may  never  suspect  how  a  steel 
spike  adroitly  set  could  cut  a  rope  and  dash  even  a 
noble  Villa  Rocca  to  his  doom,  carrying  down  inno 
cent  men  as  a  mask  to  the  crime. 

In  the  clear  sky  of  Natalie's  complacency,  a  light 
ning  stroke  of  the  gods  brings  her  palace  of  delight 
crashing  down  around  her.  Nemesis  ! 


43°  LAGUN1TAS. 

The  telegraph  flashes  across  the  prairies,  far 
beneath  the  Atlantic  ;  the  news  of  Villa  Rocca's 
death  arrives.  Hardin's  cable  is  brief.  It  is  all-suf 
ficient.  Her  trembling  limbs  give  way.  She  reads  : 

SAN  FRANCISCO. 

Count  Ernesto  killed  while  visiting  a  mine,  with  friends. 
Accident  of  hoisting  machinery.  I  was  not  there.  Leave  to 
night  for  the  place.  Telegraph  your  wishes.  Remain.  Wait 
my  reports.  Write  fully  in  a  few  clays. 

HARDIN. 

She  is  all  alone  on  earth.  This  is  a  crushing 
blow.  No  one  to  trust.  None  to  advise,  for  she 
has  leaned  on  Ernesto.  Her  mind  reels  under  this 
blow.  Pere  Frangois  is  her  only  stay.  The  sorrow 
of  these  days  needs  expression. 

Villa  Rocca's  gay  letters  continue  to  arrive.  They 
are  a  ghastly  mockery  of  these  hours.  Hardin  can 
cast  her  off  now,  and  claim  the  heiress. 

Hardin's  full  account  dispels  any  suspicion  of 
foul  play.  After  $  visit  to  the  interior,  the  count 
went  to  see  some  interesting  underground  work 
ings.  By  a  hazard  of  mining  life,  a  broken  rope 
caused  the  death  of  the  visitor,  with  several  work 
men,  and  a  mine  superintendent  who  was  doing  the 
honors.  Death  waited  at  the  foot  of  the  shaft  for 
the  noble  stranger. 

Hundreds  of  days,  on  thousands  of  trips  like 
this,  the  princes  of  the  Comstock  have  risked  their 
own  lives  in  the  perils  of  the  yawning  pits.  These 
dark  holes  blown  out  of  the  mountain  rocks  have 
their  fearful  death-rolls  to  show. 

It  is  the  revenge  of  the  gnomes.      Every  detail 


LAGUNITAS.  .      43 1 

points  to  a  frank  explanation.  Journals  and 
reports,  with  letters  from  the  Italian  consul,  lifted 
the  sad  tragedy  above  any  chance  of  crime  or  col 
lusion.  It  is  kismet. 

Hardin's  letter  was  manly.  In  it,  he  pledged  his 
honor  to  carry  out  the  agreement,  advising  Natalie 
to  select  a  friend  to  accompany  her  to  California 
with  the  heiress,  as  soon  as  she  could  travel.  His 
banker  had  orders  to  supply  funds. 

"  I  suggest,  in  view  of  this  untimely  accident,  you 
would  sooner  have  your  funds  settled  on  you  in 
Europe.  It  shall  be  as  you  wish.  You  may  rely 
on  me,"  so  ran  the  closing  lines. 

The  parted  strands  of  the  hoisting  cable 'cannot 
reveal  whether  it  was  cut  or  weakened,  yet  Hardin 
knows.  It  was  his  devilish  masterpiece. 

Days  of  sadness  drag  down  the  self-reliant  adven 
turess.  Whom  can  she  trust  now  ?  Dare  she  con 
fide  in  Pere  Fran5ols  ? 

A  simple  envelope  addressed  in  a  scrawling  hand, 
and  postmarked  San  Francisco,  drives  all  sorrow 
from  her  heart.  The  tiger  is  loosened  in  her  nature. 
She  rages  madly.  A  newspaper  slip  contains  the 
following,  in  flaming  prominence : 

"THE   UNITED   STATES   SENATE. 

"  The  choice  of  the  Legislature  for  U.  S.  Senator  will  un 
doubtedly  fall  upon  that  distinguished  jurist  Judge  Hardin, 
who  is  now  supported  by  the  railroad  kings  and  leading 
financiers  of  the  coast. 

"  It  is  rumored  that  Judge  Hardin  will,  in  the  event  of 
his  election,  contract  a  matrimonial  alliance  with  one  of  our 
leaders  of  society.  His  bride  will  entertain  extensively  in 
the  national  capital." 


432      .  LAGUNITAS. 

A  paper  bears  pithy  advice  : 

"  Come  out  and  strike  for  your  rights.  You  will  find  a 
friend  to  back  you  up.  Don't  delay." 

Natalie  recognizes  Joe  Woods  in  this.  He  is  the 
only  man  knowing  half  the  secret.  Tossing  on  her 
pillow,  the  Queen  of  the  El  Dorado  suffers  the  tor 
tures  of  the  Inferno.  Now  is  the  time  to  strike 
Hardin.  Before  the  great  senatorial  contest.  Be 
fore  this  cruel  marriage.  She  will  boldly  claim  a 
secret  marriage.  The  funds  now  in  the  Paris  bank 
are  safe.  She  can  blast  his  career.  If  she  does 
not  take  the  heiress  out,  her  chances  vanish.  And 
once  there,  what  will  not  Hardin  do  ?  What  is 
Woods'  motive  ?  Jealousy.  Revenge.  Hatred. 

Ah,  the  priest  !  She  will  unbosom  herself  to 
Pere  Francois.  She  will  urge  him  to  accompany 
her  and  the  girl  to  San  Franciso.  He  will  be  a 
"  background."  And  his  unrivalled  calmness  and 
wisdom.  Pere  Frangois  only  knows  her  as  the 
"  £l£gante"  of  the  Champs  Elys£es.  She  feels  that 
Woods  has  been  wisely  discreet. 

Summoning  the  ecclesiastic,  Madame  de  Santos 
tells  the  story  of  her  claims  upon  Hardin. 

The  old  Frenchman  passes  his  rosary  beads,  with 
a  clinking  sound,  as  he  listens  to  the  half-truths 
told  him. 

"  And  your  child  ?  "  he  queries. 

"  I  have  placed  her  secretly  where  Hardin  can 
not  reach  her.  She  will  be  produced  if  needed." 

There  is  a  peculiar  smile  in  the  priest's  face. 
"  Madame,  I  will  accompany  you  on  one  condition." 

"  Name    it,"    cries    the    siren.       "  I    will    furnish 


LAGUNITAS.  433 

money,  and  every  comfort  for  you.  It  shall  be  my 
duty  to  reward  you." 

The  priest  bows  gravely. 

"  I  wish  to  have  a  resolute  man  with  our  party. 
My  .young  friend,  Raoul  Dauvray,  has  a  lion's 
courage.  Let  him  go  with  us.  I  do  not  wish 
Judge  Hardin  to  know  of  my  presence  in  San 
Francisco.  Dauvray  will  guard  you  with  his  life." 

"  I  agree  to  your  wishes !  "  says  madame  thought 
fully.  And  loyal  Raoul  will  fight  for  her  and  his 
hoped-for  bride.  In  a  month  there  is  a  notable 
departure  from  Paris.  Madame  de  Santos,  Made 
moiselle  Isabel  Valois,  with  their  maids,  and  Raoul, 
"en  cavalier."  On  the  same  steamer,  Pere  Francois 
travels.  He  affects  no  intimacy  with  the  distin 
guished  voyagers.  His  breviary  takes  up  all  his 
time.  Arrived  at  New  York,  Pere  Frangois  leaves 
for  San  Francisco  several  days  in  advance  of  the 
others. 

It  is  singular  that  he  goes  no  farther  than  Sacra 
mento.  The  legislature  is  about  to  assemble. 
Joseph  Woods,  as  State  senator,  is  launched  in  polit 
ical  life.  The  robust  miner  laughs  when  he  is  asked 
why  he  accepts  these  cheap  honors. 

"I'm  not  too  old  to  learn  some  new  tricks,"  he 
cheerfully  remarks.  His  questions  soon  exhaust 
Pere  Frangois'  stock  of  answers. 

A  day's  conference  between  the  friends  leads  to 
a  series  of  Napoleon-like  mandates  of  the  mining 
Croesus.  Telegraph  and  cable  bear  abroad  to  the 
shores  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva  the  summons  which 
brings  Peyton,  with  Armand  Valois  and  the  lovely 
blooming  "  Louise  Moreau,"  secretly  to  the  Pacific. 
28 


434  LAGUNITAS. 

Natalie  knows  nothing  of  these  pilgrims.  Quietly 
reaching  San  Francisco,  by  a  local  train,  Pere  Fran- 
gois  becomes  again  Padre  Francisco.  He  rests  his 
weary  head  under  the  hallowing  sounds  of  the 
well-remembered  bells  of  the  past  at  the  Mission 
Dolores. 

Natalie  de  Santos  rubs  her  eyes  in  wonder  at  the 
queen  city  of  the  West,  with  its  conquered  hills  and 
vanished  sand-dunes.  Whirled  away  to  a  secure 
quiet  retreat  in  a  convent,  selected  by  Pere  Frangois, 
the  heiress  and  her  young  guardian  are  safe  from 
even  Hardin's  wiles. 

Pere  Frangois  at  New  York  has  conferred  a  day 
with  Judge  Davis,  and  bids  his  new  charge  be  calm 
and  trust  to  his  own  advice.  Isabel  Valois  is  in 
a  maze  of  new  impressions,  and  bewildered  by  a 
strange  language. 

Bravely  attired,  and  of  a  generous  port,  Raoul 
Dauvray  installs  himself  in  one  of  the  palatial  hotels 
which  are  the  pride  of  the  occidental  city.  Colonel 
Joseph  Woods  is  conspicuously  absent. 

When  the  fatigue  of  travel  is  over,  Natalie  de 
Santos  quietly  summons  Philip  Hardin  to  the  inter 
view  she  dreads.  She  has  been  prepared  by  Pere 
Francois  for  this  ordeal.  Yet  her  tiger  blood  leaps 
up  in  bubbling  floods.  She  will  at  last  face  the 
would-be  traitor,  and  upbraid  him.  Oh,  for  one 
resolute  friend ! 

It  is  in  another  convent  that  lovely  "  Isabel 
Valois "  is  concealed.  The  heiress  longs  to  burst 
her  bonds.  Is  not  Raoul  near  her?  Assured  of  a 
necessity  for  patience,  the  wayward  beauty  -bides 
her  time.  Every  day  the  roses  she  caresses,  whisper 


LAGUNITAS.  435 

to  her  of  the  ardent  lover  who  sighs  near  her  in 
vain. 

Philip  Hardin  steels  himself  to  face  the  woman  he 
intends  to  trick  and  deceive  at  the  very  last.  There 
are  such  things  as  insane  asylums  in  California,  if 
she  makes  any  hubbub. 

But  he  has  a  "  coup  d'etat  "  in  his  mind.  The  old 
schemer  will  bring  Natalie  to  terms.  Flattery  first ; 
fear  afterwards. 

"  And  they  are  face  to  face  once  more." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

LOVERS   ONCE. — STRANGERS   NOW. — FACE  TO   FACE. 

USHERED  into  a  private  room,  the  soulless  Har- 
din'sjron  nerves  fail  him.  His  heart  leaps  up  wildly 
when  royal  "  Madame  de  Santos "  approaches  si 
lently.  Heavens  !  Her  startling  beauty  is  only 
mellowed  with  time.  Another  woman  than  the 
Hortense  Duval  of  old  stands  before  him.  A  god- 
des's. 

She  has  grown  into  her  new  role  in  life. 

"  Hortense!  "  he  eagerly  cries,  approaching  her. 

"  Spare  me  any  further  deceit,  Philip,"  she  coldly 
replies.  Seating  herself,  she  gazes  at  him  with  flam 
ing  eyes  !  She  is  a  queen  at  bay  ! 

He  is  startled.  A  declaration  of  war.  No  easy 
mastery  now. 

"Where  is  your  charge?"  Hardin  queries. 

"  Where  you  will  not  see  her,  until  we  under 
stand  each  other,"  rejoins  the  determined  woman. 


436  LAGUNITAS. 

Her  steady  glance  pierces  his  very  soul.  Memories 
of  old  days  thrill  his  bosom. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  all  this?"  Hardin's 
nerve  returns.  He  must  not  yield  to  mortal. 

The  woman  who  queened  it  over  his  home,  ex 
tends  a  jewelled  hand  with  an  envelop.  "  Explain 
this,"  she  sharply  cries. 

The  Judge  reads  it.  It  is  the  announcement  of 
his  double  senatorial  and  matrimonial  campaign.  , 

"  Is  there  any  foundation  for  that  report  ?  "  Ma 
dame  de  Santos  deliberately  asks. 

"  There  is,"  briefly  rejoins  the  lawyer.  He  muses 
a  moment.  What  devil  is  awakened  in  her  now? 
This  is  no  old-time  pleading  suppliant. 

"Then  you  will  not  see  Isabel  until  you  have 
settled  with  me  and  provided  the  funds  promised 
before  the  death  of  the  count." 

"  Ah  !  "  sneers  the  old  advocate  ;  "  I  understand 
you  now,  madame.  Blood  money  !  " 

"  Partly,"  remarks  Madame  de  Santos.  "  I  also 
insist  upon  your  giving  up  this  marriage." 

Hardin  springs  from  his  chair.  Age  has  robbed 
him  of  none  of  his  cold  defiance.  He  will  crush 
her. 

"You  dare  to  dream  of  forcing  me  to  marry 
you  ?  "  His  eyes  have  the  glitter  of  steel. 

"You  need  not  give  up  the  senate,  but  you  must 
marry  me,  privately,  and  give  your  own  child  a 
name.  Then  I  will  leave,  with  the  funds  you  will 
provide.  You  can  separate  from  me  afterward  by 
the  mere  lapse  of  time.  There  will  be  no  publicity 
needed." 

"  Indeed  !  "  Hardin  snarls.    "  A  nice  programme. 


LAGUNITAS.  437 

You  have  had  some  meddling  fool  advise  you  ;  some 
later  confidant  ;  some  protector." 

"  Exactly  so,  Judge,"  replies  the  woman,  her 
bosom  heaving  in  scorn  and  defiance.  "  We  have 
lived  together.  We  are  privately  married  now  by 
law  !  Philip,  you  know  the  nameless  girl  you  have 
never  asked  for  is  your  own  child." 

Hardin  paces  the  floor  in  white  rage.  He  gazes 
sternly  in  her  eyes.  She  regards  his  excited  move 
ments,  glaring  with  defiant  eyes.  A  tigress  at  bay. 

"  I  will  end  this  here,  madame  !  In  two  weeks 
Isabel  Valois  will  be  eighteen.  If  she  is  not  forth 
coming  I  will  invoke  the  law.  If  I  am  forced  to 
fight  you,  you  will  not  have  a  cent  from  me.  I  will 
never  marry  you  !  I  decline  to  provide  for  you  or 
yours,  unless  you  yield  this  girl  up.  You  must  leave 
the  country  before  the  senatorial  election.  That  is 
my  will." 

Natalie  faces  her  old  lover.  Tyrant  of  her  heart 
once,  he  is  now  a  malignant  foe  ! 

"  Philip  Hardin,"  she  pleads,  "  look  out  of  that 
window.  You  can  see  the  house  my  child  was  born 
in — your  home,  our  home  !  Philip,  give  that  child 
a  name ;  I  will  leave  you  in  peace  forever !  "  There 
is  the  old  music  in  her  velvet  voice. 

"Never!"  cries  the  Judge.  "  Give  up  the  girl 
you  took  away.  Leave  at  once.  I  will  secure  your 
fortune.  You  cannot  force  me.  You  never  could. 
You  cannot  now  !  "  He  glares  defiance  to  the  death. 

His  eyes  tell  the  truth.      He  will  not  yield. 

"  Then  God  help  you,  Philip,"  the  woman  sol 
emnly  says.  "  You  will  never  reach  the  Senate  ! 
You  will  never  live  to  marry  another  woman  !" 


438  LAGUNITAS. 

"  Do  you  threaten  me,  you  she-devil?"  snarls 
Hardin,  alarmed  at  the  settled,  resolute  face. 
"  I  have  a  little  piece  of  news  for  you  which  will 
block  your  game,  my  lady.  There  is  no  proof  of 
the  legitimacy  of  the  child,  Isabel  Valois.  A  claim 
has  already  been  filed  by  a  distant  Mexican  relative 
of  the  Peraltas.  The  suit  will  come  up  soon.  If 
the  girl  is  declared  illegitimate,  you  can  take  her 
back  to  France,  and  keep  her  as  a  beggar.  You  are 
in  my  hands  !  "  He  chuckles  softly. 

"  Philip  Hardin,  you  are  a  liar  and  a  monster. 
This  is  your  conspiracy.  Now,  show  yourself  a 
thief,  also."  Natalie  retorts.  The  words  cut  the 
proud  man  like  a  lash. 

He  seizes  her  jewelled  wrist.  He  is  beside  him 
self. 

"  Beware,"  she  hisses.  "  By  the  God  who  made 
me,  I'll  strike  you  dead." 

He  recoils. 

She  is  once  more  the  queen  of  the  El  Dorado. 
Her  ready  knife  is  flashing  before  his  eyes.  "You 
have  a  fearful  reckoning  to  answer.  You  will  meet 
your  match  yet  at  the  game  of  Life  !  "  she  cries. 

But,  Natalie  de  Santos  is  stunned  by  his  devilish 
plot  to  rob  the  despoiled  orphan  even  of  her  name. 
He  reads  her  face.  "  I  will  give  you  a  day  to  think 
this  over.  1  will  come  to-morrow."  Hardin's  voice 
rings  with  ill-concealed  triumph. 

"  Not  ten  minutes  will  you  give  me.  I  tell  you 
now  I  will  crush  you  in  your  hour  of  victory,  if  I 
die  to  do  it.  Once  more,  will  you  marry  me  and 
give  your  child  a  name?"  She  rises  and  paces  the 
room,  a  beautiful  fury. 


LAGUNITAS.  439 

"  You  have  your  answer,"  he  coldly  replies. 

"  Then,  may  the  plundered  orphan's  curse  drag 
you  down  to  the  hell  you  merit,"  is  Natalie's  last 
word  as  she  walks  swiftly  out  of  the  door.  She  is 
gone. 

He  is  alone.  Somethings  rings  with  dull  fore 
boding  in  his  ears  as  his  carriage  rolls  away.  An 
orphan's  curse !  A  cold  clammy  feeling  gnaws  at 
his  heart.  An  orphan's  curse  ! 

Ah  !  from  the  tomb  of  buried  years  the  million 
aire  hears  the  voice  of  Maxime  Valois  and  shudders  : 

"  May  God  deal  with  you  as  you  deal  with  my 
child." 

At  home,  in  his  library,  where  the  silken  rustling 
of  that  woman's  dress  has  thrilled  him  in  bygone 
years,  the  old  Judge  drinks  a  glass  of  cognac  and 
slowly  recovers  his  mental  balance. 

Through  smoke-clouds  he  sees  the  marble  cham 
ber  of  the  Senate  of  the  Great  Republic.  He  must 
move  on  to  the  marriage,  he  has  deferred  until  the 
election.  It  is  a  pledge  of  twenty  votes  in  joint 
ballot. 

As  for  the  girl  Isabel,  why,  there  is  no  human 
power  to  prove  her  legitimacy  now.  That  priest. 
Bah !  Dead  years  ago.  Silence  has  rolled  the 
stone  over  his  tomb. 

Hardin  has  foreseen  for  years  this  quarrel  with 
Natalie  de  Santos.  But  she  can  prove  absolutely 
nothing.  He  will  face  her  boldly.  She  is  alone  in 
the  world.  He  can  tear  the  veil  aside  and  blacken 
her  name. 

And  yet,  as  evening  falls,  his  spirit  sinks  within 
him.  He  can  not,  will  not,  marry  the  woman  who 


440  .  LAGUNITAS. 

has  defied  him.  What  devil,  what  unseen  enemy 
put  her  on  his  track  again?  If  he  had  never  trusted 
her.  Ah,  too  late  ;  too  late  ! 

Secretly  he  had  laid  his  well-devised  mines.  The 
judge  in  Mariposa  is  weighted  down  with  a  golden 
bribe.  The  court  officials  are  under  his  orders. 
But  who  is  the  unknown  foe  counselling  Natalie? 
He  cannot  fathom  it.  Blackmail !  Yes,  blackmail. 

In  three  days  Hardin  is  at  Sacramento.  His 
satellites  draw  up  their  cohorts  for  the  senatorial 
struggle.  If  the  legislature  names  him  senator, 
then  his  guardianship  will  be  quickly  settled  before 
the  Mariposa  Court.  There,  the  contest  will  be 
inaugurated,  which  will  declare  Isabel  Valois  a 
nameless  child  of  poverty.  This  is  the  last  golden 
lock  to  the  millions  of  Lagunitas.  The  poor  pup 
pet  he  has  set  up  to  play  the  contestant  is  under 
his  control.  He  had  wished  to  see  Natalie  home 
ward  bound  before  this  denouement.  It  must  be. 
He  muses.  Kill  her  !  Ah,  no  ;  too  dangerous.  He 
must  foil  her. 

But  her  mad  rage  at  his  coming  marriage.  Well, 
he  knew  the  ambitious  and  stately  lady  who  aspired 
to  share  his  honors  would  condone  the  story  of  his 
early  "  bonnes  fortunes."  What  could  lonely  Natalie 
do  at  the  trial  ?  Nothing.  He  has  the  Court  in  his 
pocket.  He  will  brave  her  rage. 

Hardin  writes  a  final  note,  warning  the  woman 
he  fears,  to  attend  with  the  heiress  on  the  day  of 
the  calling  for  his  accounting. 

Marvels  never  cease.  He  tears  open  the  answer, 
after  two  sleepless  nights.  She  simply  replies  that 
the  young  Lady  of  Lagunitas  will  be  delivered  to 


LAGUNITAS.  44! 

him  on  the  appointed  day.  He  cannot  read  this 
riddle.  Is  it  a  surrender  in  hopes  of  golden  terms? 
He  knows  not  of  Pere  Francois'  advice. 

He  smiles  in  complacent  glee.  Pie  has  broken 
many  a  weak  woman's  nerve  :  she  is  only  one  more. 

While  he  ponders,  waiting  that  reply,  Natalie 
Santos,  with  heavy  heart,  tells  the  priest  the  story  of 
her  tryst  with  her  old  lover. 

Pere  Francois  smiles  thoughtfully.  He  answers  : 
"  Be  calm.  You  will  be  protected.  Trust  to  me. 
I  will  confer  with  our  advisers.  Not  a  word  to 
Isabel  of  impending  trouble." 

The  little  court-house  at  Mariposa  is  not  large 
enough  for  the  crowd  which  pours  in  to  see  the 
Lady  of  Lagunitas  when  the  fated  day  approaches. 
It  is  the  largest  estate  in  the  country.  A  number 
of  strangers  have  arrived.  They  are  targets  for 
wild  rumors.  Several  grave-looking  arrivals  are 
evidently  advocates.  There  is  "  law  "  in  their  very 
eyebrows. 

Raoul  Dauvray  escorts  Madame  de  Santos  and 
the  girl  whose  rumored  loveliness  is  famous  already. 
Philip  Hardin,  with  several  noted  counsel,  is  in 
readiness.  Pere  Frangois  is  absent.  There  is  an 
elderly  invalid,  with  an  Eastern  party  of  strangers, 
who  resembles  him  wonderfully. 

On  the  case  being  reached,  there  is  a  busy  hum 
of  preparation.  One  or  two  professional-looking 
men  of  mysterious  identity  quietly  take'their  places 
at  the  bar.  In  the  clerk's  offices  there  is  also  a  bevy 
of  strangers.  By  a  fortuitous  chance,  the  stalwart 
form  of  Colonel  Joe  Woods  illuminates  the  dingy 
court-room.  His  business  is  not  on  the  calendar. 


442  LAGUNITAS. 

He  sits  idly  playing  with  a  huge  diamond  ring  until 
the  "  matter  of  the  guardianship  of  Isabel  Valois  " 
is  reached. 

Several  lawyers  spring  to  their  feet  at  once.  A 
queer  gleam  is  in  Joe  Woods'  eye  as  he  nods  care 
lessly  to  Hardin.  They  are  both  Knights  of  the 
Golden  Circle. 

Judge  Hardin's  counsel  opens  the  case,  Har 
din  passes  Natalie  in  the  court-room,  with  one 
last  look  of  warning  and  menace.  There  is  no 
quiver  to  her  eyelids.  The  graceful  figure  of  a 
veiled  young  girl  is  beside  her. 

When  Hardin's  advocate  ceases,  counsel  rises  to 
bring  the  contest  for  the  heirship  of  Lagunitas  to 
the  judicial  notice  of  the  Court. 

The  Judge  is  asked  to  stay  the  confirmation  of 
the  guardian's  accounts  and  reports.  His  Honor 
blandly  asks  if  the  young  lady  is  in  court. 

"  Let  Isabel  Valois  take  the  stand,"  is  the  direc 
tion. 

Judge  Hardin  arises  and  passing  to  Natalie  San 
tos,  whose  glittering  eyes  are  steadily  fixed  on  his, 
in  an  inscrutable  gaze,  leads  the  young  lady  beside 
her  to  the  stand.  Natalie  has  whispered  a  few 
words  of  cheer. 

All  eyes  are  fixed  upon  the  beautiful  stranger,  who 
is  removing  a  veil  from  a  face  of  the  rarest  loveli 
ness.  There  is  a  sensation. 

Philip  rfardin  rises  to  his  feet,  ghastly  pale,  as 
Joseph  Woods  quietly  leads  up  to  the  platform  a 
slight,  girlish  form.  It  is  another  veiled  woman, 
who  quietly  seats  herself  beside  the  claimant. 

There    is  amazement    in   the    court-room.     "  His 


LAGUNITAS.  443 

Honor,"  with  a  startled  glance  at  Judge  Hardin, 
who  is  gazing  vacantly  at  the  two  figures  before 
him,  says,  "  Which  of  these  young  ladies  is  Miss 
Isabel  Valois?" 

A  voice  is  heard.  It  is  one  of  the  strange  coun 
selors  speaking. 

Hardin  hears  the  words,  as  if  each  stabbed  him  to 
the  heart. 

"  Your  Honor,  we  are  prepared  to  show  that  the 
last  young  lady  who  has  taken  the  stand,  is  Miss 
Isabel  Valois." 

There  is  consternation  in  the  assembly.  Hardin's 
veins  are  knotted  on  his  forehead.  He  stares  blank 
ly  at  the  two  girls.  His  eyes  turn  to  Natalie  de 
Santos.  She  is  gazing  as  if  the  grave  had  given  up 
its  dead.  Her  cheeks  whiten  to  ashes.  Pere  Fran- 
9015,  Henry  Peyton,  and  Armand  Valois  enter  and 
seat  themselves  quietly  by  the  side  of  the  man  who 
is  speaking.  What  does  this  all  mean  ?  No  one 
knows.  The  lawyer  resumes. 

"  We  will  show  your  Honor,  by  the  evidence  of 
the  priest  who  baptized  her,  and  by  the  records  of 
the  church,  that  this  young  lady  is  the  lawful  and 
only  child  of  Maxime  Valois  and  Dolores  Peralta. 
We  have  abundant  proof  to  explain  the  seeming 
paradox.  We  are  in  a  position  to  positively  iden 
tify  the  young  lady,  and  to  dispose  of  the  contest 
raised  here  to-day,  as  to  the  marriage  of  the  parents 
of  the  real  heiress." 

Philip  Hardin  has  sprung  to  his  lawyers.  They 
are  amazed  at  the  lovely  apparition  of  another  Isa 
bel  Valois.  At  the  bidding  of  the  Court,  Louise 
Moreau's  gentle  face  appears. 


444  LAGUNITAS. 

"  And  who  is  the  other  young  lady,  according  to 
your  theory?"  falters  the  astounded  .judge,  who 
cannot  on  the  bench  receive  the  support  of  his 
Mephistopheles. 

"  We  will  leave  that  to  be  proved,  your  Honor! 
We  will  prove  our  client  to  be  Isabel  Valois.  We 
will  prove  the  other  lady  not  to  be.  It  remains  for 
the  guardian,  who  produces  her,  to  show  who  she 
may  be."  The  lawyer  quietly  seats  himself. 

There  is  a  deadlock.  There  is  confusion  in  court. 
Side  by  side  are  seated  two  dark-eyed  girls,  in  the 
flush  of  a  peerless  young  womanhood.  Lovely  and 
yet  unlrke  in  facial  lines,  they  are  both  daughters 
of  the  South.  Their  deep  melting  eyes  are  gazing, 
in  timid  wonder,  at  each  other.  They  are  strangers. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  your  witness  ?  "  the  judge 
mechanically  questions.  The  lawyer  calmly  an 
swers,  "  Francois  Ribaut  (known  in  religion  as 
*  Padre  Francisco'),  who  married  the  father  and 
mother  of  this  young  lady,  and  also  baptized 
her." 

A  faint  sob  from  Natalie  breaks  the  silence. 
Her  eyes  are  filled  with  sudden  tears.  She  knows 
the  truth  at  last.  The  priest  has  risen.  Hardin 
looks  once  more  upon  that  pale  countenance  of  the 
padre  which  has  haunted  his  dreams  so  long.  "  Is  it 
one  from  the  dead  ?  "  he  murmurs.  But,  with  quick 
wit,  his  lawyer  demands  to  place  on  the  witness 
stand,  the  lady  charged  with  the  nurture  of  "  Isabel 
Valois."  Philip  Hardin  gazes  wolfishly  at  the  royal 
beauty  who  is  sworn.  A  breathless  silence  wraps 
the  room. 

The   preliminary  questions  over,   while   Hardin's 


LAGUNITAS.  445 

eyes  rove  wildly  over  the  face  of  the  woman  he  has 
cast  off,  the  direct  interrogatory  is  asked  : 

"Do  you  know  who  this  young  lady  is?"  says 
the  attorney,  with  a  furtive  prompting  from  Har- 
din.  "  I  do  !  "  answers  the  lady,  with  broken  voice. 

Before  another  question  can  be  asked,  the  col 
leagues  of  Hardin's  leading  lawyer  hold  a  whispered 
colloquy  with  their  chief. 

There  is  a  breathless  silence  in  the  court.  The 
principal  attorney  for  the  guardian  asks  the  Court 
for  a  postponement  of  two  weeks. 

"We  were  prepared  to  meet  an  inquiry  into  the 
legitimacy  of  the  ward  of  our  client.  This  produc 
tion  of  another  claimant  to  the  same  name,  is  a 
surprise  to  us.  On  account  of  the  gravity  of  this 
matter,  we  ask  for  a  stay." 

No  objection  is  heard.  His  Honor,  anxious  him 
self  to  have  time  to  confer  with  the  would-be 
senator,  adjourns  the  hearing  for  two  weeks. 

Before  Hardin  could  extricate  himself  from  the 
circle  of  his  advisers,  the  long-expected  girl  he  has 
seen  for  the  first  time  has  disappeared  with  Madame 
de  Santos.  He  has  no  control  over  her  now.  Too 
late! 

His  blood  is  bounding  through  his  veins.  He 
has  been  juggled  with.  By  whom  ?  Natalie,  that 
handsome  fiend.  And  yet,  she  was  paralyzed  at 
the  apparition  of  the  second  beauty,  who  has  also 
vanished. 

He  must  see  Natalie  at  once  before  she  can 
frame  a  new  set  of  lies.  After  all,  the  mine  is 
safe. 

As  he  strides  swiftly  across  the  plaza,  the  thought 


446  LAGUNITAS. 

of  the  senatorial  election,  and  the  lady  whom  he 
has  to  placate,  presses  on  his  mind. 

As  for  the  election,  he  will  secure  that.  If 
Natalie  attempts- exposure,  he  will  claim  it  to  be 
a  blackmail  invention  of  political  enemies.  Ha ! 
Money!  Yes,  the  golden  arguments  of  concrete 
power.  He  will  use  it  in  floods  of  double  eagles. 

He  will  see  Natalie  on  her  way  to  Paris  before 
the  second  hearing.  Yes,  and  send  some  one  out  of 
the  State  to  watch  her  as  far  as  New  York.  He 
must  buy  her  off. 

A  part  of  the  money  in  hand  ;  the  rest  payable 
at  Paris  to  her  own  order.  She  must  be  out  of  the 
way. 

Mariposa  boasts  two  hotels.  The  avoidance  of 
Hardin's  friends  brings  all  the  strangers,  perforce, 
together  in  the  other.  They  have  been  strangely 
private  in  their  habits. 

Philip  Hardin's  brow  is  set.  It  is  no  time  for 
trifling.  He  sends  his  name  up  to  Madame  de  Santos. 
She  begs  to  be  excused.  "  Would  Judge  Hardin 
kindly  call  in  the  evening?" 

This  would  be  after  a  council  of  war  of  his  ene 
mies.  It  must  be  prevented.  He  pens  a  few  words 
on  a  scrap  of  paper,  and  waits  with  throbbing 
pulses. 

"  Madame  will  receive  him."  As  he  walks  up 
stairs,  he  realizes  he  has  to  face  a  reckoning  with 
Joe  Woods.  He  will  make  that  clumsy-headed 
Croesus  rue  the  day.  And  yet  Woods  is  in  the 
State  Senate,  and  may  oppose  his  election. 

With  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  doors  of  Natalie's 
apartment,  he  does  not  notice  Woods  gazing  at  him, 


LAGUNITAS.  447 

from  the  end  of  the  hall,  in  the  open  door  of  the 
portico. 

Natalie  motions  him  to  a  seat  as  he  enters.  He 
looks  at  her  in  amazement.  She  is  not  the  same 
woman  who  entered  that  court-house.  He  speaks. 
The  sound  of  his  own  voice  makes  him  start. 

"  What  is  all  this  devil's  tomfoolery?  Explain  it 
tome.  Are  you  mad?"  His  suppressed  feelings 
overmaster  him.  He  gives  way  to  an  imprudent 
rage. 

"  Are  you  ready  to  marry  me?  Are  you  ready  to 
keep  the  oath  you  swore  to  stand  by  me?"  Her 
dark  eyes  burn  into  his  heart.  She  is  calm,  but 
intense  in  her  demand. 

<k  Tell  me  the  truth  or  I'll  choke  it  out  of  you," 
he  hisses,  grasping  her  rudely. 

His  rashness  breaks  the  last  bond  between  them. 
A  shriek  from  the  struggling  woman  echoes  through 
the  room. 

The  door  flies  open. 

Hardin  is  hurled  to  the  wall,  reeling  blindly. 

The  energetic  voice  of  Joe  Woods  breaks  tb\ 
silence.  "  You  are  a  mean  dog,  but,  by  God,  I  did 
not  think  you'd  strangle  a  woman." 

Hardin  has  struggled  to  his  feet.  In  his  hand 
flashes  a  pistol. 

Joe  Woods  smiles. 

"  Trying  the  old  El  Dorado  dodge,  Judge,  won't 
work.  Sit  down  now.  Listen  to  me.  Put  up  that 
shooting  iron,  or  I'll  nail  you  to  the  wall." 

His  bowie  knife  presses  a  keen  point  to  Hardin's 
breast.  It  is  checkmate. 

Natalie   Santos  is   buried  in   the  cushions  of  her 


448  LAGUNITAS. 

chair.  She  is  sobbing  wildly.  Shuffling  feet  are  at 
the  door.  The  fracas  has  been  overheard. 

Joe  Woods  quietly  opens  it.  He  speaks  calmly. 
"The  lady  has  fainted.  It's  all  right.  Go 
away." 

Through  the  door  a  girl's  lovely  face  is  seen,  in 
frightened  shyness.  "  I'll  send  for  you,  miss,  soon," 
Colonel  Joe  remarks,  with  awkward  sympathy. 

He  seats  himself  nonchalantly. 

"  Now,  Hardin,  I've  got  a  little  account  to  settle 
with  you.  I'll  give  you  all  the  time  you  want.  But 
I'll  say  right  here  before  this  lady,  I  know  you  are 
under  an  obligation  to  treat  her  decently. 

"  I  remember  her  at  the  El  Dorado  !  " 

Hardin  springs  to  his  feet.  Natalie  raises  her 
tearful  eyes. 

"  Keep  cool,  Judge,"  continues  the  speaker. 
"You  used  to  take  care  of  her.  Now  I'm  a-going 
to  advise  her  in  her  little  private  affairs.  I  want 
you  to  let  her  severely  alone.  I  want  you  to  treat 
her  as  she  deserves  ;  like  a  woman,  not  a  beast.  You 
can  finish  this  interview  with  her.  I'm  a-going  out. 
If  you  approach  her  after  this,  without  my  presence 
or  until  she  sends  for  you,  I'll  scatter  your  brains 
with  my  old  six-shooter.  I  shall  see  she  gets  a 
square  deal.  She's  not  going  to  leave  California 
till  this  whole  business  is  cleared  up.  You  hear  me." 
Joe's  mood  is  dangerous. 

"  Now  go  ahead  with  your  palaver,  madame.  I'm 
not  going  to  leave  the  house.  I  know  my  business, 
and  I'll  stand  by  you  as  long  as  my  name  is  Joe 
Woods.  When  you're  done  I  want  you  to  see  me, 
and  see  my  lawyer." 


LAGUNITAS.  449 

There  is  silence.  Natalie's  eyes  give  the  stalwart 
miner  a  glance  of  unutterable  thankfulness. 

She  has  met  a  man  at  last. 

Her  bosom  heaves  with  pride,  her  eyes  beam  on 
rough  old  Joe.  Woods  has  taken  out  an  unusually 
long  cigar.  He  lights  it  at  the  door,  and  leisurely 
proceeds  to  smoke  it  on  the  upper  veranda. 

When  his  foot-fall  dies  away,  Hardin  essays  to 
speak.  His  lips  are  strangely  dry.  He  mutters 
something,  and  the  words  fail  him.  Natalie  inter 
rupts,  with  scorn  :  "  Curse  you  and  your  money, 
you  cowardly. thief.  You  have  met  your  match  at 
last.  I  trusted  to  your  honor.  Your  hands  were 
on  my  throat  just  now.  I  have  but  one  word  to  say 
to  you  now.  Go,  face  that  man  out  there  !  "  Hardin 
is  in  a  blind  rage. 

His  legal  vocabulary  finds  no  ready  phrase  of 
adieu.  His  foot  is  on  the  top  stair.  Joe  Woods 
says  carelessly : 

"Judge,  you  and  I  had  better  have  a  little  talk 
to-night."  Ah,  his  enemy!  He  knows  him  at  last. 
Hardin  hoarsely  mutters:  ''Where?  when?" 

"  When  you  please,"  says  Woods. 

"  Ten,  to-night ;  your  room.  I'll  bring  a  friend 
with  me."  Hardin  nods,  and  passes  on,  crossing" 
the  square  to  his  hotel.  He  must  have  time  for 
thought  ;  for  new  plans ;  for  revenge  ;  yes,  bloody 
revenge. 

Colonel  Joseph  Woods  spends  an  hour  in  con 
ference  with  Peyton  and  Father  Francois.  Their 
plans  are  all  finished. 

Judge  Davis,  who  is  paralyzed  by  the  vehemence 
of  California  character,  caresses  his  educated 
29 


450  LAGUNITAS. 

whiskers.  He  pets  his  eye-glasses,  while  the  three 
gentlemen  confer.  He  is  essentially  a  man  of  peace. 
He  fears  he  may  become  merely  a  "  piece  of  man  " 
in  case  the  appeal  to  revolvers,  or  mob  law,  is 
brought  into  this  case.  They  do  things  differently 
in  New  York. 

While  the  two  lovely  girls  are  using  every  sooth 
ing  art  of  womanly  sympathy  to  care  for  Natalie,  it 
begins  to  dawn  upon  each  of  them  that  their  futures 
are  strangely  interlinked.  The  presence  of  Madame 
de  Santos  seals  their  lips.  They  long  for  the  hour 
when  they  can  converse  in  private.  They  know  now 
that  the  redoubtable  Joe  Woods  has  two  fatherless 
girls  to  protect  instead  of  one. 

Natalie  Santos,  lying  on  her  couch,  watches  these 
young  beauties  flitting  about  her  room.  "  Does  the 
heiress,  challenged  in  her  right,  dream  of  her  real 
parentage?"  A  gleam  of  light  breaks  in  on  the 
darkness  of  her  sufferings.  Why  not  peace  and  the 
oblivion  of  retirement  for  her,  if  her  child's  future 
is  assured  in  any  way?  Why  not? 

Looking  forward  hopefully  to  a  conference  with 
Colonel  Joe,  she  fears  only  the  clear  eyes  of  old 
Padre  Francisco.  "  Shall  she  tell  him  all?"  In 
these  misgivings  and  vain  rackings  of  the  mind,  she 
passes  the  afternoon.  She  yields  to  her  better 
angel,  and  gives  the  story  of  her  life  to  the  patient 
priest. 

Armand  Valois  and  Raoul  Dauvray  have  a  blessed 
new  bond  of  brotherhood.  They  are  both  lovers. 
With  Padre  Francisco,  they  are  a  guard  of  honor, 
watching  night  and  day  the  two  heiresses. 

They  share   the  secret  consciousness  of  Natalie 


LAGUNITAS.  45 1 

de  Santos  that  Joe  Woods  has  in  store  some  great 
stroke. 

Judge  Davis,  Peyton,  and  the  resolute  Joe  are  the 
only  calm  ones  in  the  settlement.  For,  far  and  wide 
the  news  runs  of  racy  developments.  In  store, 
saloon,  and  billiard  lounging-place,  on  the  corners, 
and  around  the  deserted  court-room,  knots  of  cigar- 
smoking  scandal-mongers  assuage  their  inward  crav 
ings  by  frequent  resort  to  the  never-failing  panacea 
—whiskey.  Wild  romances  are  current,  in  which 
two  great  millionaires,  two  sets  of  lawyers,  duplicate 
heiresses,  two  foreign  dukes,  the  old  padre  and  the 
queenly  madame  are  the  star  actors  in  a  thrilling 
local  drama,  which  is  so  far  unpunctuated  by  the 
crack  of  the  revolver. 

It  is  a  struggle  for  millions,  and  the  clash  of  arms 
will  surely  come. 

There  has  been  no  great  issue  ever  resolved  in 
Mariposa  before  the  legal  tribunal,  which  has  not 
added  its  cadavers  to  the  mortuary  selections  lying 
in  queer  assortment  on  the  red  clay  hillsides. 

"  Justice  nods  in  California  while  the  pistols  are 
being  drawn." 

Hardin,  closeted  with  his  lawyers,  suspends  their 
eager  plotting,  to  furtively  confer  in  private  with 
the  judge. 

When  the  first  stars  sweep  into  the  blue  moun 
tain  skies,  and  a  silver  moon  rises  slowly  over  the 
pine-clad  hills,  Joseph  Woods  summons  all  his  latent 
fascinations  to  appease  Madame  Natalie  de  Santos. 
The  sturdy  Missourian  has  had  his  contretemps  with 
Sioux  and  Pawnee.  He  has  faced  prairie  fires, 
stampeded  buffalo  herds,  and  met  dangers  by  flood 


452  LAGUNITAS. 

and  field.  Little  personal  discussions  with  horse 
thieves,  some  border  frays,  and  even  a  chance  en 
counter  on  a  narrow  trail  with  a  giant  grizzly,  have 
tried  his  nerve.  But  he  braces  with  a  good  stiff 
draught  of  cognac  now.  He  fears  the  wily  and  fas 
cinating  Natalie.  He  is  at  heart  a  would-be  lady's 
man.  Roughness  is  foreign  to  his  nature,  but  he  will 
walk  the  grim  path  of  duty. 

When  he  thinks  of  flinching,  there  rises  on  his 
memory  the  lonely  grave  where  Peyton  laid  Maxime 
Valois  to  rest  on  the  bloody  field  of  Peachtree 
Creek,  with  the  stars  and  bars  lying  lightly  on  his 
gallant  breast.  And  he  calmly  enters  the  presence 
of  the  once  famous  siren. 

There  is  a  mute  entreaty  in  her  eyes,  as  she 
motions  him  to  a  seat. 

Joseph  toys  nervously  with  the  huge  diamond, 
which  is  a  badge  "  de  rigueur "  of  his  rank  and 
grade  as  a  bonanza  king. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  agitate  or  distress  you, 
madame,"  begins  Joe,  and  his  voice  is  very  kind. 

"  I  broke  out  a  little  on  Hardin  ;  all  bluff,  you 
know.  Just  to  show  him  a  card.  Now  will  you 
trust  and  let  me  help  you  ?  I  mean  to  bring 
you  out  all  right.  I  can't  tell  you  all  I  know.  I  am 
going  to  fight  Hardin  on  another  quarrel.  It  will 
be  to  the  death.  I  can  just  as  well  square  your 
little  account  too,  if  you  will  trust  me.  Will  you 
let  me  handle  your  movements,  up  to  the  legal 
issue.  After  that  you  are  free.  I'll  give  you  the 
word  of  an  honest  man,  you  shall  not  suffer.  Will 
you  trust  me  ?  " 

Joe's  big  eyes  are  looking  very  appealingly  in  hers. 


LAGUNITAS.  453 

Without  a  word,  she  places  her  hand  in  his.  "  I 
am  yours  until  that  time,  but  spare  me  as  much  as 
you  can — the  old  histories,  you  know,"  her  voice 
falters.  She  is  a  woman,  after  all. 

"  Now  see  here,  madame  !  I  swear  to  you  I  am 
the  only  private  man  in  California  who  knows  your 
secret,  except  Hardin,  now.  I  got  it  in  the  days 
long  past.  No  one  shall  know  your  identity."  He 
fixes  a  keen  glance  on  her:  "  Is  there  anyone  else 
you  wish  to  spare  ?  "  he  softly  says. 

"  Yes."  She  is  sobbing  now.  "  It  is  my  child. 
Don't  let  her  know  that  awful  past." 

Joseph's  eyes  are  filled  with  manly  sorrow.  He 
whispers  with  eagerness  : 

"  Her  father  is  "— 

"  Philip  Hardin,"  falters  the  woman,  whose 
stately  head  is  now  bowed  in  her  hands. 

"  I'll  protect  that  child.  She  shall  never  want  a 
friend,  if  you  do  one  thing,"  Joe  falters. 

Natalie  raises  a  white  face  to  his. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  huskily  whispers. 

"Will  you  swear,  in  open  court,  which  of  these 
two  girls  is  your  own  child,  if  I  ask  you  to?"  He 
is  eager  and  pleading. 

She  reads  his  very  soul.  She  hesitates.  "  And 
you  will  protect  the  innocent  girl,  against  his 
wrath  ?  "  There  is  all  a  mother's  love  in  her  appeal. 

"  Both  of  you.  I  swear  it.  You  shall  not  want 
for  money  or  protection,"  Joe  solemnly  says. 

"Then,  I  will!"  Natalie  firmly  answers. 

He  springs  to  her  side. 

"  Does  Hardin  know  which  girl  is  his  daughter?  " 

"  He  does  not !  "  Natalie  says  slowly. 


454  LAGUNITAS. 

There  is  a  silence  ;  Joe  can  hear  his  own  heart 
beat.  Victory  at  last. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  ask  you,  except  to  see  no  one 
but  myself,  Padre  Francisco,  or  my  lawyer.  If 
Hardin  wants  to  see  you,  I'll  be  present.  Now  I 
am  going  to  see  him  to-night.  You  will  be  watched 
over  night  and  day.  I  am  going  to  have  every  pre 
caution  taken.  I  shall  be  near  you  always.  Rest 
in  safety.  I  think  I  can  save  you  any  opening  up 
of  the  old  days. 

"  I  will  see  you  early." 

Her  hands  clasp  his  warmly  !  She  says  :  "  Colonel, 
send  Pere  Frangois  to  me.  I  will  tell  him  all  you 
need  to  know.  He  will  know  what  to  keep  back." 

"  That's  right,"  cries  Joseph,  warmly.  "  I  know 
how  to  handle  Hardin  now.  You  can  bank  on  the 
padre.  He's  dead  game." 

"And  your  reward?"  Natalie  whispers,  with 
bowed  head. 

A  wild  thought  makes  the  blood  surge  to  Joe's 
brain.  He  slowly  stammers,  "My  reward?"  His 
eyes  teli  him  he  must  make  no  mistake.  A  flash  of 
genius. 

"You  will  square  my  account,  madame,  if  you 
make  no  objection  to  the  immediate  marriage  of 
your  daughter  to  Dauvray.  He's  a  fine  fellow  for 
a  Frenchman,  and  she  shall  never  know  this  story. 
She'll  have  money  enough.  I'll  see  to  that." 
Joe's  voice  is  earnest. 

Natalie's  arms  are  stretched  to  him  in  thanks. 
"  In  God's  name,  be  it,  my  noble  friend." 

Joe  dares  not  trust  himself  longer. 

He  retires,  leaving   Natalie   standing,  a  splendid 


LAGUNITAS.  455 

statue,  with  shining,  hopeful  eyes.  Her  blessing 
follows  him  ;  sin-shadowed  though  she  be,  it  reaches 
the  Court  of  Heaven. 

Natalie,  in  silent  sorrow,  sees  her  labor  of  years 
brushed  away.  Her  child  can  never  be  the  heiress 
of  Lagunitas.  Fate  has  brought  the  gentle  Louise 
Moreau  to  the  very  threshold  of  her  old  home. 
It  is  Providence.  Destiny.  The  all-knowing  Pere 
Francois  reveals  to  her  how  strangely  the  life-path 
of  the  heiress  has  been  guarded.  "  My  daughter," 
the  priest  solemnly  says,  "  be  comforted.  Right 
shall  prevail.  Trust  me,  trust  Colonel  Woods. 
Your  child  may  fall  heir  yet  to  a  name  and  to  her 
own  inheritance.  The  ways  of  Him  who  pardons 
are  mysterious."  Ho  leaves  her  comforted  and  yet 
not  daring  to  break  the  seal  of  silence  to  the  lovely 
claimants. 

While  Pere  Francois  confers  with  Natalie,  as  the 
moon  sails  high  in  heaven  over  the  fragrant  pines, 
WToods  and  Peyton  exchange  a  few  quiet  words  over 
their  cigars. 

By  the  repeater  which  Joe  consults  it  is  now  a 
quarter  of  ten.  The  two  gentlemen  stroll  over  the 
grassy  plaza.  By  a  singular  provincial  custom  each 
carries  a  neat  navy  revolver,  where  a  hand  could 
drop  easily  on  it.  Joe  also  caresses  his  favorite 
knife  in  his  overcoat  pocket. 

In  five  minutes  they  are  seated  with  Philip  Har- 
din  in  his  room.  There  is  an  air  of  gloomy  readi 
ness  in  Hardin  which  shows  the  unbending  nature 
of  the  man.  He  is  alone.  Woods  frankly  says : 
"  Judge  Hardin,  I  wish  you  to  know  my  friend,  Mr. 
Henry  Peyton.  If  anything  should  happen  to  me, 


LAGUNITAS. 

he  knows  all  my  views.  He  will  represent  me.  As 
you  are  alone,  I  will  ask  Mr.  Peyton  to  wait  for  me 
below." 

Henry  Peyton  bows  and  passes  downstairs,  where 
he  is  regarded  as  an  archangel  of  the  enemy.  For 
the  Hardin  headquarters  are  loyal  to  their  great 
chief.  The  man  who  controls  the  millions  of  Lagu- 
nitas  is  surrounded  by  his  loyal  body-guard  at  Mari- 
posa. 

When  the  two  men  are  alone,  Woods  waits  for 
Hardin  to  speak.  He  is  silent.  There  is  a  gulf 
between  them  which  never  can  be  bridged.  Joseph 
feels  he  is  no  match  for  Hardin  in  chicanery,  but  he 
has  his  little  surprise  in  store  for  the  lawyer.  It 
is  an  armed  truce. 

"  Hardin,  I've  come  over  to-night  to  talk  a  little 
politics  with  you,"  begins  Joseph.  His  eye  is  glued 
on  the  Judge's,  who  steadily  returns  the  glance. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

JUDGE  HARDIN  MEETS  HIS  MATCH. — A  SENATORIAL 
ELECTION. — IN  A  MARIPOSA  COURT-ROOM. — 
THE  TRUST  FULFILLED  AT  LAGUNITAS. 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  my  politi 
cal  aspirations,  sir,"  haughtily  remarks  Hardin,  glar 
ing  at  the  stolid  visitor,  who  calmly  continues. 

"  I  don't  allow  no  trouble,  Jedge,"  Woods  drawls. 
"  I'll  play  my  cards  open.  I  run  this  here  joint  con 
vention,  which  makes  or  breaks  you.  I'm  dead-flat 
plain  in  my  meaning.  I  can  burst  up  your  election 


LAGUNITAS.  457 

as  United  States  Senator,  unless  you  and  me  can 
make  'a  deal.'  " 

"Your  terms?"  sneers  Hardin,  with  a  glance  at 
Joe's  hand  in  his  pocket.  "Toujours  pret "  is 
Joseph's  motto. 

"  Oh,  my  terms !  I'll  be  open,  Jedge.  I  leave 
this  here  lawsuit  between  us,  to  our  lawyers.  I 
will  fight  you  fair  in  that.  You  will  find  me  on  the 
square." 

"  Do  you  threaten  me,  sir?"  demands  Hardin. 

"  Now,  make  your  own  game."  Joe's  brow  dark 
ens.  "  Hardin,  I  want  you  to  hear  me  out ;  you  can 
take  it  then,  in  any  shape  you  want  to.  Fight  or 
trade."  Woods'  old  Missouri  grit  is  aroused. 

"  Go  on,"  says  Hardin,  with  a  rising  gorge. 

'•You're  talking  marriage."  Joe's  sneer  maddens 
Hardin.  "  I  tell  you  now  to  settle  old  scores  with 
the  lady  whom  I  found  in  your  hands  to-night.  If 
you  don't,  you're  not  going  to  the  Senate." 

Hardin  gathers  himself.  Ah,  that  hand  in  the 
pocket  ! 

"Don't  make  a  mistake,  Jedge,"  coldly  interjects 
Woods.  "  Drop  that  gun.  We're  no  bravos." 

"  I  positively  decline  to  have  any  bargain  with 
you  on  my  private  matters.  After  you  leave  this 
room,  you  can  look  out  for  yourself,  if  you  cross  my 
path,"  hisses  the  Judge,  his  face  pale  and  ghastly. 

"  Now,  Jedge,"  Joe  snaps  out,  "watch  your  own 
scalp.  Hardin,  I'll  not  dodge  you.  You  are  going 
on  the  wrong  road.  We  split  company  here.  But 
there's  room  enough  in  California  for  you  and  me. 
As  for  any  *  shooting  talk/  it's  all  bosh.  You  will 
get  in  a  hot  corner,  unless  you  hear  me  out.  I  tell 


458  LAGUNTTAS. 

you  now,  to  acknowledge  your  child  by  that  woman. 
Save  your  election  ;  save  yourself,  old  man. 

"She'll  go  off  to  France,  but  you've  got  to  give 
her  child  a  square  name  and  a  set-out." 

"Never!"  yells  Hardin,  forgetting  himself,  as 
with  blind  rage  he  points  to  the  door. 

"All  right,"  says  Joseph,  coolly.  "You'll  never 
be  senator  till  you  send  for  me.  You  have  fair 
warning.  My  cards  are  face-up  on  the  table." 
Hardin,  speechless  with  rage,  sees  him  disappear. 

Peyton  and  Joe  Woods  walk  over  the  silent 
plaza,  with  the  twinkling  stars  sweeping  overhead. 
They  exchange  but  few  words.  They  seek  the  rest 
of  their  pillows.  Joe's  prayers  consist  of  reloading 
his  revolvers. 

The  last  watcher  in  Mariposa  is  Hardin,  the  hate 
of  hell  in  his  heart.  A  glass  of  neat  brandy  is  tossed 
off.  He  throws  himself  heavily  on  the  bed.  The 
world  is  a  torment  to  him  now.  "  On  to  Sacra 
mento  "  is  his  last  thought.  Money,  in  hoards  and 
heaps,  will  drown  this  rich  booby's  vain  interference. 
For,  legislatures  sell  senatorial  honors  in  California 
openly  like  cabbage  in  a  huckster's  wagon,  only  at 
higher  prices. 

Before  the  gray  squirrels  are  leaping  on  the 
madronas  and  nutty  oaks  next  dawn  of  day,  Hardin 
is  miles  away  towards  the  State  capital.  His  legal 
forces  remain.  He  takes  one  trusty  agent,  to  dis 
tribute  his  golden  arguments. 

When  Woods  leisurely  finishes  his  breakfast  he 
strolls  under  the  pines  with  Pere  Frangois.  There 
are  also  two  youthful  couples.  They  are  reading 
lessons,  not  of  law,  but  of  love,  in  each  other's  shin- 


LAGUNITAS.  459 

ing  eyes  as  they  wander  in  the  lonely  forest 
paths. 

Seated  by  a  dashing  mountain  brook  which  runs 
past  the  town,  Pere  Francois  gravely  informs  Joe 
that  Natalie  de  Santos  has  given  him  the  dark  history 
of  her  chequered  life.  Though  the  seal  of  the  con 
fessional  protects  it,  he  has  her  consent  to  supply 
Woods  and  Judge  Davis  with  certain  facts.  Her 
sworn  statements  will  verify  these  if  needed. 

After  a  long  interview  with  Madame  de  Santos, 
Colonel  Joseph  follows  Hardin  to  Sacramento.  He 
has  one  or  two  resolute  friends  with  him  as  a  guard 
against  the  coarse  Western  expedient  of  assassina 
tion.  He  knows  Hardin's  deft  touches  of  old. 

As  the  stage  rattles  around  dizzy  heights,  below 
massy  cliffs,  swinging  under  the  forest  arches,  the 
Missouri  champion  reasons  out  that  Hardin's  hands 
are  tied  personally  as  regards  a  bloody  public 
quarrel,  by  the  coming  senatorial  fight.  To  pluck 
the  honors  of  the  Senate  at  last  from  a  divided 
State,  is  a  testimony  to  the  lawyer's  great  abilities. 
Joe  thinks,  with  a  sigh  of  regret,  that  some  mere 
animated  money-bag  may  sit  under  the  white  dome, 
and  misrepresent  the  sovereign  State  of  California. 
"  Well,  if  Hardin  won't  bend,  he's  got  to  break." 
The  miner  puffs  his  cigar  in  search  of  wisdom. 

Single-minded  and  unswerving,  Woods  goes 
directly  to  his  splendid  rooms  at  the  <;  Golden 
Eagle,"  on  reaching  Sacramento. 

The  capital  city  of  the  State  is  crowded  with 
legislators  and  attaches.  The  lobby  banditti,  free 
lances,  arid  camp  followers  of  the  annual  raid  upon 
the  pockets  of  the  people  are  on  guard.  While  his 


460  LAGUNITAS. 

meal  is  being  served  in  his  parlor,  he  indites  a  note 
to  Hardin's  political  Mark  Antony.  It  will  rest 
with  him  to  crown  a  triumph  or  deliver  his  unheard 
oration  over  the  body  of  a  politically  dead  Caesar. 
The  billet  reads  : 

"  I  want  you  instantly,  on  a  matter  deciding 
Hardin's  election.  You  can  show  him  this." 

In  half  an  hour,  over  burgundy  and  the  ever- 
flowing  champagne,  Woods,  feeling  his  visitor  in 
good  humor,  fires  his  first  gun.  He  begins  with 
half-shut  eyes,  in  a  genial  tone: 

11  Harris,  I  have  sent  for  you  to  tell  you  Hardin 
and  me  have  locked  horns  over  some  property.  Now 
I  won't  vote  for  him,  but  I'll  hold  off  my  dogs. 
I  won't  work  against  him  if  he  signs  a  sealed  paper 
I'm  goin'  to  give  you.  If  he  don't,  I'll  open  out, 
and  tell  an  old  yarn  to  our  secret  nominating  caucus. 
I  am  solidly  responsible  for  the  oration.  He  will 
be  laid  out.  It  rests  only  with  his  friends  then,  to 
spread  this  scandal.  He  has  time  to  square  this.  It 
does  not  hang  on  party  interests.  I  am  a  man  of 
my  word,  you  know.  Now,  I  leave  it  to  you  to  con 
sider  if  he  has  any  right  to  ask  his  friends  to  back 
him  in  certain  defeat.  See  him  quick.  If  he  tells 
you  to  hear  the  story  from  me,  I  will  tell  you  all. 
If  he  flies  the  track,  I  am  silent  until  the  caucus. 
Then,  I  will  speak,  if  I'm  alive.  If  I  am  dead,  my 
pard  will  speak  for  me.  My  death  would  seal  his 
utter  ruin.  I  can  stand  the  consequences.  He  has 
got  to  come  up  to  the  captain's  office  and  settle." 
The  astounded  Harris  gloomily  muses  while  Woods 
quietly  inscribes  a  few  lines  on  a  sheet  of  paper. 
He  seals  the  envelop,  and  hands  it  to  Senator  Harris. 


LAGUNITAS.  461 

"  I  won't  leave  this  camp,  Harris,  till  I  get  your 
answer,"  calmly  remarks  Joseph.  He  refuses  to  waste 
more  words  in  explanation.  "  See  Hardin,"  is  his 
only  phrase.  "  It's  open  war  then  between  him  and 
me." 

Harris,  with  a  very  grave  face,  enters  the  private 
rooms  of  Judge  Hardin  at  the  Orleans  Hotel. 

Hardin  listens,  with  scowling  brow  as  black  as 
night.  He  tears  open  the  envelop!  His  faithful 
henchman  wonders  what  can  bring  night's  blackness 
to  Judge  Hardin's  face. 

The  lines  are  a  careful  acknowledgment  of  the 
paternity  of  the  girl  child  of  "  Natalie  de  Santos," 
born  at  San  Francisco  and  now  about  eighteen 
years  of  age.  It  closes  with  a  statement  of  her 
right  to  inherit  as  a  lawful  heiress  from  him. 

"  1  will  shoot  that  dog  on  sight,  if  he  carries  out 
this  threat,"  deliberately  says  Hardin. 

"  Judge,"  coldly  replies  his  lieutenant,  "  does  this 
note  refer  to  public  affairs,  or  to  party  interests?  " 

"  Private  matters  !  "  replies  Hardin,  his  eyes  flash 
ing. 

"  Then,  let  me  say,  I  will  keep  silent  in  this  mat 
ter.  I  shall  ask  you  to  name  some  other  man  to 
handle  your  candidacy  before  the  Legislature.  ,  Joe 
Woods  is  honest,  and  absolutely  of  iron  nerve. 
You  can  send  for  any  of  your  other  friends,  and 
choose  a  man  to  take  my  place.  I  won't  fight  Joe. 
Woods  never  lied  in  his  life. 

"  If  you  will  state  that  you  have  adjusted  this 
difference  with  him,  I  am  at  your  service.  Let  me 
know  your  decision  soon.  He  waits  for  me.  In  all 
else,  I  am  yours,  as  a  friend,  but  I  will  not  embroil 


462  LAGUNITAS. 

the  State  now  for  a  mere  private  feud.  Send  for 
me,  Judge,  when  you  have  decided." 

In  the  long  and  heated  conferences  of  the  night, 
before  the  sun  again  pours  its  shimmering  golden 
waves  on  the  parched  plains  of  Sacramento,  Hardin 
finds  no  one  who  will  face  the  mysterious  situation. 

Harris  finds  the  patient  Joe  playing  seven-up 
with  a  couple  of  friends,  and  his  pistols  on  the  table. 

"  All  right,  Harris  ;  let  him  think  it  over."  Joe 
nods,  and  continues  his  game. 

Calmly  expectant,  when  Harris  sends  his  name 
up  next  morning,  Joe  Woods  is  in  very  good 
humor.  The  gathering  forces  are  anxious  for  the 
hour  when  a  solemn  secret  party  caucus  shall  name 
the  man  to  be  officially  balloted  in  as  Senator  of 
the  United  States  for  six  years.  The  term  is  not 
to  begin  for  three  months,  but  great  corporations, 
the  banks,  with  their  heaped  millions,  and  all  the 
mighty  high-priests  of  the  dollar-god,  need  that 
sense  of  security  which  Hardin's  ability  will  give  to 
their  different  schemes.  Their  plans  can  be  safely 
laid  out  then. 

In  simple  straightforwardness,  Harris  hands 
Woods  a  sealed  envelop,  without  a  word. 

In  the  vigils  of  one  awful  night,  Philip  Hardin 
knows  that  he  must  fence  off  the  maddened  woman 
who  seems  to  have  a  mysterious  hold  upon  his  des 
tiny  at  this  crisis.  What  force  impels  her? 

Hardin  has  enjoined  Harris  to  have  Woods  re 
peat  his  pledge  of  "  non-opposition." 

"  Did  you  see  the  Jedge  sign  this  here  paper  ?  " 
says  Woods  dryly,  as  he  inspects  the  signature. 
His  face  is  solemn. 


LAGUNITAS.  463 

"  I  did,"  Harris  answers. 

"  Then  just  write  your  name  here  as  witness," 
Joseph  briskly  says,  handing  him  a  pen,  and  cover 
ing  the  few  lines  of  the  document,  leaving  only 
Philip  Hardin's  well-known  signature  visible. 

Harris  hesitates.  Joe's  eyes  are  blazing  ;  no  fool 
ery  now  !  Harris  quietly  signs.  The  name  of 
Joseph  Woods  is  added,  at  once,  with  the  date. 

"  Harris,"  says  Joseph,  "  you're  a  man  of  honor. 
I  pledge  you  now  I  will  not  make  public  the  nature 
of  this  document.  Hardin  can  grab  for  the  Senate 
now,  if  you  boys  can  elect  him.  I'll  not  fight 
him." 

Harris  retires  in  silence.  The  day  is  saved. 
Though  the  election  is  within  three  days,  Joseph 
Woods  finds  private  business  so  pressing  that  his 
seat  is  vacant,  when  Philip  Hardin  is  declared 
Senator-elect.  The  pledge  has  been  kept.  Not 
a  rumor  of  the  secret  incident  reaches  the  public. 
The  cautious  Joseph  is  grateful  for  not  being 
obliged  to  shorten  Hardin's  life. 

Fly  as  fast  as  Hardin  may  to  Mariposa,  Joe 
Woods  is  there  before  him.  The  telegraph  bears  to 
every  hamlet  of  the  Golden  State  the  news  of  the 
senatorial  choice. 

Philip  Hardin,  seated  on  the  porch  of  the  old 
mansion  at  Lagunitas,  reads  the  eulogies  crowding 
the  columns  of  fifty  journals. 

From  San  Diego  to  Siskiyou  one  general  voice 
hails  the  new-made  member  of  that  august  body, 
who  are  now  so  rapidly  giving  America  "  Roman  lib 
erties." 

The  friend  of  Mammon,  nurtured   in   conspiracy, 


464  LAGUNITAS. 

skilled  in  deceit,  Hardin,  the  hidden  Mokanna,  grins 
behind  his  silver  veil. 

His  deep-laid  plans  seem  all  safe  now.  The  local 
meshes  of  his  golden  net  hold  the  District  Judge 
firmly.  It  will  be  easy  to  postpone,  to  weary  out, 
to  harass  this  strange  faction.  He  has  stores  of 
coin  ready.  They  are  the  heaped-up  reserves  of 
his  "  senatorial  ammunition."  And  yet  Joe  Woods, 
that  burly  meddling  fool.  To  placate  Natalie  ! 
To  induce  her  to  leave  at  once  for  Paris!  How 
shall  this  be  done?  Ha!  The  marriage  is  her 
dream  in  life!  He  is  elected  now.  He  fears  not 
her  Southern  rival.  The  ambitious  political  lady 
aspirant !  He  can  explain  to  her  now  in  private, 
To  give  Natalie  an  acknowledgment  of  a  private 
marriage  will  content  her.  Then  his  bought  Judge 
can  quietly  grant  a  separation  for  desertion,  after 
Natalie  has  returned  to  France.  She  will  care  noth 
ing  for  the  squabble  over  the  acres  of  Lagunitas,  if 
well  paid.  As  for  the  priest,  he  may  swear  as 
strongly  as  he  likes.  The  girl  will  surely  be  de 
clared  illegitimate.  He  has  destroyed  all  the 
papers.  Valois'  will  is  never  to  see  the  light.  If 
deception  has  been  practiced  he  cares  not.  Sena 
torial  privilege  raises  him  too  high  for  the  voice  of 
slander. 

He  has  the  golden  heart  of  these  hills  now  to 
himself. 

Yes,  he  will  fool  the  priest  and  divide  his  ene 
mies.  The  money  for  Natalie  will  be  deposited  in 
Paris  banks.  The  principal  to  be  paid  her  in  one 
year,  on  condition  of  never  again  coming  to  the 
United  States.  Long  before  that  time  he  will  be 


LAGUNITAS.  465 

legally  free  and  remarried.  Hardin  rubs  his  hands 
in  glee.  Neither  reporter  nor  the  public  will  ever 
see  the  divorce  proceedings.  That  is  easily  handled 
in  Mariposa. 

In  his  local  legal  experience,  he  has  many  times 
seen  wilder  schemes  succeed.  Spanish  grants  have 
been  shifted  leagues  to  suit  the  occasion.  Bound 
aries  are  removed  bodily.  Witnesses  are  manufac 
tured  under  golden  pressure.  The  eyes  of  Justice  are 
blinded  with  opaque  weights  of  the  yellow  treasure. 

But  he  must  work  rapidly.  It  is  now  only  a  short 
week  to  the  trial.  The  court-house  and  records  are 
regularly  watched.  Not  a  move  indicates  any  pry 
ing  into  the  matter  beyond  the  mere  identity  of  the 
heiress.  But  who  has  set  up  the  other  claimant? 

It  would  be  madness  for  Natalie  to  raise  this 
quarrel !  Some  schemers  have  imposed  a  strange 
girl  on  the  other  party.  Hardin  recalls  Natalie's 
wild  astonishment  at  the  apparition  of  another 
"  Isabel  Valois." 

And  the  second  girl  did  not  even  know  who 
Natalie  was.  What  devil's  work  is  this? 

Hardin  decides  to  "  burn  his  ships."  Alone  in  the 
home  of  the  Peraltas,  he  prepares  for  a  campaign 
"  a  1'outrance."  That  crafty  priest  might  know  too 
much.  The  evening  before  his  departure  he  burns 
up  every  paper  at  the  ranch  which  would  cause  any 
remark,  even  in  case  of  his  death.  Next  morning, 
as  he  rides  out  of  Lagunitas,  he  gazes  on  the  fair 
domain.  The  last  thing  he  sees  is  the  chapel  cross. 
A  chill  suddenly  strikes  him.  He  gallops  on.  Rap 
idly  journeying  to  Mariposa,  he  installs  himself  in 
the  headquarters  of  his  friends.  His  ablest  counsel 
80 


466  LAGUNITAS. 

has  provided  the  bought  Judge,  with  full  secret  in 
structions  to  meet  every  contingency. 

Sober  and  serious  in  final  judgment,  Philip 
Hardin  quickly  summons  a  discreet  friend.  He 
requests  a  last  personal  interview  with  Natalie  de 
Santos.  The  ambassador  is  received  by  good- 
humored  Joe  Woods.  He  declines  an  interview,  by 
the  lady's  orders,  unless  its  object  is  stated. 

Hardin  requests  that  some  friend  other  than  the 
Missouri  miner,  may  be  named  to  represent  Natalie. 

His  eyes  gleam  when  the  selection  is  made  of 
Pere  Francois.  Just  what  he  would  wish. 

It  lacks  now  but  three  days  of  the  final  hearing. 
An  hour  after  the  message,  Hardin  and  the  priest 
are  seated,  in  quiet  commune.  There  are  no 
papers.  There  is  no  time  lost,  none  to  lose.  No 
witnesses,  no  interlopers. 

Hardin  opens  his  proposals.  The  priest  seems 
tractable.  "  I  do  not  wish  to  refer  to  any  present 
legal  matters.  I  speak  only  of  the  past.  I  will 
refer  only  to  the  future  of  *  Madame  de  Santos.' 
You  may  say  to  her  that  if  she  will  grant  me  a  brief 
interview,  I  feel  I  can  make  her  a  proposition  she 
will  accept,  as  very  advantageous.  In  justice  to 
her,  I  cannot  communicate  its  details,  even  to  you. 
But  if  she  wishes  to  advise  with  you,  I  have  no 
objection  to  giving  you  the  guarantees  of  my  pro 
vision  for  her  future.  You  shall  know  as  much 
of  our  whole  arrangement  as  she  wishes  you  to. 
She  can  have  you  or  other  friends,  in  an  adjoining 
room.  You  can  be  called  in  to  witness  the  papers, 
and  examine  the  details." 

The  grave  priest  returns  in  half  an  hour.     Hardin 


LAGUNITAS.  467 

ponders  uneasily.  The  priest  plays  an  unimpas- 
sioned  part.  "  Madame  de  Santos  will  receive 
Judge  Hardin  on  his  terms,  with  the  condition,  that 
if  there  is  any  exciting  difference,  Judge  Hardin 
will  retire  at  once,  and  not  renew  his  proposals." 
Hardin  accepts.  Now  for  work. 

Side  by  side,  the  new-made  senator  and  the  old 
priest  walk  across  the  plaza.  Success  smiles  on 
Hardin. 

Local  quid-nuncs  mutter  "  Compromise,"  as  they 
seek  the  spiritual  consolation  of  the  Magnolia 
Saloon  and  Palace  Varieties.  Is  there  to  be  no 
pistol  practice  after  all  ? 

Alas,  these  degenerate  days  !  The  camp  has  lost 
its  glory.  Betting  has  been  two  to  one  that 
Colonel  Joe  Woods  riddles  the  Judge  before  the 
trial  is  over. 

Now  these  bets  will  be  off.  A  fraud  on  the  inno 
cent  public.  The  decadence  of  Mariposa. 

Yet,  Hardin  is  not  easy.  In  the  first  struggle  of 
his  life  with  a  priest,  Hardin  feels  himself  no  match 
for  his  passionless  antagonist.  The  waxen  mask  of 
the  Church  hides  the  inner  soul  of  the  man. 

Only  when  Pere  Francois  turns  his  searching 
gaze  on  the  Judge,  parrying  every  move,  does  the 
lawyer  feel  how  the  immobility  of  the  clergyman 
is  proof  against  his  wiles  and  professional  am 
bushes. 

Pere  Fran9ois  conducts  Hardin  into  the  room 
whence  Natalie  dismissed  him,  in  her  roused  but 
sadly  wounded  spirit.  She  is  there,  waiting.  Her 
face  is  marble  in  pallor. 

With  a  grave  bow,  the  old   ecclesiastic  retires  to 


468  LAGUNTTAS. 

an  adjoining  room  and  leaves  them  alone.  There 
is  a  writing  table. 

"  Madame,  to  spare  you  discussion,"  Hardin  re 
marks  seriously,  "  I  will  write  on  two  sheets  of  paper 
what  I  ask  and  what  I  offer.  You  may  confer 
with  your  adviser.  I  will  retire.  You  can  add  to 
either  anything  you  propose.  We  can  then,  at 
once,  observe  if  we  can  approach  each  other." 

Natalie's  stately  head  bows  assent  in  silence.  In 
five  minutes  Hardin  hands  her  the  two  sheets.* 

Natalie's  face  puzzles  him.  Calm  and  unmoved, 
she  looks  him  quietly  in  the  eyes,  as  if  in  a  mute 
farewell.  She  has  simply  uttered  monosyllables,  in 
answer  to  his  few  explanations. 

Hardin  walks  up  and  down  upon  the  veranda, 
while  Natalie,  the  priest,  and  Colonel  Joe  scan  the 
two  sheets.  His  heart  beats  quickly  while  the  trio 
read  his  proposals. 

They  are  simple  enough.  What  he  gets  and 
what  he  gives.  Madame  de  Santos  is  to  absent 
herself  from  the  trial.  She  is  to  leave  Isabel  Valois, 
her  charge,  with  the  priest.  She  is  to  be  silent  as 
to  the  entire  past. 

Hardin's  lawyers  are  to  stipulate,  in  case  of  Isabel 
Valois  being  defeated  in  any  of  her  rights,  she  shall 
be  free  to  receive  a  fund  equal  to  that  settled  on 
the  absent  child  of  Natalie.  Her  freedom  comes 
with  her  majority  in  any  case. 

Judge  Hardin  offers,  on  the  other  hand  : 

To  give  a  written  recognition  of  the  private  mar 
riage,  arid  to  fully  legalize  the  absent  Irene. 

To  admit  her  to  his  succession,  and  to  surrender 
all  control  to  the  mother. 


LAGUNITAS.  469 

On  condition  of  Natalie  de  Santos  ceasing  all 
marital  claims  and  disappearing  at  once,  she  is  to 
receive  five  hundred  thousand  dollars,  in  bankers' 
drafts  to  her  order  in  Paris,  six  months  after  the 
legal  separation. 

Hardin's  tread  re-echoes  on  the  porch.  His  mind 
is  busied.  Is  he  to  have  a  closing  career  of  unsul 
lied  honor  in  the  Senate?  He  is  yet  in  a  firm,  if 
frosty  age.  A  dignified  halo  will  surround  his 
second  marriage.  It  is  better  thus.  Peace  and 
silence  at  any  cost.  And  Lagunitas'  millions  to 
come.  The  mine — his  dear-bought  treasure.  It  is 
coming,  Philip  Hardin.  Peace  and  rest?  it  will  be 
peace  and  silence.  He  starts!  The  black-robed 
priest  is  at  the  door.  Father  Francois  has  now 
resumed  his  soutane. 

11  Will  you  kindly  enter?  "  he  says. 

Hardin,  with  unmoved  face,  seats  himself  opposite 
Natalie.  Pere  Fran9ois  remains. 

"I  will  accept  your  terms,  Judge  Hardin,"  she 
steadily  says,  "  with  the  addition  that  the  advice  of 
Judge  Davis  be  at  my  service  regarding  the 
papers,  and  that  I  leave  to-morrow  for  San  Fran 
cisco. 

"  You  are  to  send  an  agent,  also.  The  money  to 
be  transferred  by  telegraph,  payable  absolutely  to 
me  at  Paris,  by  my  bankers,  at  the  appointed  time. 
Your  agent  may  accompany  me  to  the  frontier  of 
the  State.  I  will  leave  as  soon  as  the  bankers  ac 
knowledge  the  transfer. 

"In  case  of  any  failure  on  your  part,  the  obliga 
tion  to  keep  silent  ceases.  I  retain  the  marriage 
papers." 


47°  LAGUNITAS. 

Hardin  bows  his  head.  The  priest  is  silent.  In 
a  few  moments,  the  senator-elect  says : 

a  I  agree  to  all."  His  senatorial  debut  pictures 
itself  in  his  mind. 

Madame  de  Santos  rises.  "  I  authorize  Pere 
Francois  to  remain  with  you,  on  my  behalf.  Let 
the  papers  be  at  once  prepared.  I  am  ready  to 
leave  to-morrow  morning.  I  only  insist  the  two 
papers  which  would  affect  my  child,  be  duplicated, 
and  both  witnessed  by  our  lawyers." 

Hardin  bows  assent.  Natalie  de  Santos  walks 
toward  the  door  of  her  rooms.  Her  last  words  fall 
on  his  ear  :  "  Pere  Francois  will  represent  me  in  all." 
She  is  going.  Hardin  springs  to  the  door:  "  And  I 
shall  see  you  again?"  His  voice  quivers  slightly. 
Old  days  throng  back  to  his  memory.  "  Is  it  for 
ever?"  His  iron  heart  softens  a  moment. 

"I  pray  God,  never!  Philip  Hardin,  you  are  dead 
to  me.  The  past  is  dead.  I  can  only  think  of  you 
with  your  cruel  grasp  on  my  throat !  "  She  is  gone. 

As  the  door  closes,  Hardin  buries  his  face  in  his 
hands.  Thoughts  of  other  days  are  rending  his 
heart-strings. 

Before  three  hours,  the  papers  are  all  executed. 
The  morning  stage  takes  Natalie  de  Santos,  with 
the  priest,  and  guarded  by  Armand  Valois,  away 
from  the  scene  of  the  coming  legal  battle. 

In  the  early  gray  of  the  dawn,  Philip  Hardin  only 
catches  a  glimpse  of  a  muffled  form  in  a  coach.  He 
will  see  the  mother  of  his  child  no  more.  With  a 
wild  dash,  the  stage  sweeps  away.  It  is  all  over. 

His  agent,  in  a  special  conveyance,  is  already  on 
the  road.  He  has  orders  to  telegraph  the  comple- 


LAGUNITAS.  47 1 

tion  of  the  transfer.  He  is  to  verify  the  departure 
for  New  York,  of  the  ex-queen  of  the  El  Dorado. 

On  the  day  of  the  hearing,  the  court-house  is 
crowded.  Pere  Francois  and  Armand  Valois  have 
not  yet  returned.  Both  sides  have  received,  by 
telegraph,  the  news  of  the  completion  of  the  work. 
By  stipulation,  the  newly-acknowledged  marriage  is 
not  to  be  made  public. 

Hardin,  pale  and  thoughtful,  enters  the  court 
with  his  supporters.  There  is  but  one  young  lady 
present.  With  her,  Peyton,  Judge  Davis,  and 
Joseph  Woods  are  seated.  Raoul  Dauvray  seats 
himself  quietly  between  the  two  parties. 

When  the  case  is  reached,  there  is  the  repression 
of  a  deathly  silence.  Hardin,  by  the  advice  of  his 
lawyers,  will  stand  strictly  on  the  defensive.  He 
has  decided  to  acknowledge  his  entire  readiness  to 
close  his  guardianship.  He  will  leave  the  heirship 
to  be  finally  adjusted  by  the  Court.  The  Court  is 
under  his  thumb. 

His  senatorial  duties  call  for  this  relief.  It  will 
take  public  attention  from  the  unpleasant  matter. 
Rid  of  the  burden  of  the  ranch,  still  the  "  bonanza 
of  Lagunitas  "  will  be  his,  as  always. 

The  great  lawyer  he  relies  on  states  plausibly 
this  entire  willingness  to  such  a  relief,  and  requests 
the  Court  to  appoint  a  successor  to  the  distinguished 
trustee.  Hardin  feels  that  he  has  now  covered  his 
past  with  a  solid  barrier.  Safe  at  last.  No  living 
man  can  roll  away  the  huge  rock  from  the  "  tomb 
of  the  dead  past."  It  would  need  a  voice  from  the 
grave.  He  can  defy  the  whole  world.  No  thought 
of  his  dead  friend  haunts  him. 


472  LAGUNITAS. 

When  the  advocate  ceases  speaking,  while  the 
Judge  ponders  over  the  disputed  heirship,  and  the 
contest  as  to  the  legitimacy  of  Maxime  Valois'  child, 
when  clearly  identified,  Judge  Davis  rises  quietly  to 
address  the  Court.  Philip  Hardin  feels  a  slight 
chill  icing  down  his  veins,  as  he  notes  the  gravity  of 
the  Eastern  lawyer's  manner.  Is  there  a  masked 
battery  ? 

"  Your  Honor,"  begins  Davis,  "  we  oppose  any 
action  tending  to  discharge  or  relieve  the  present 
guardian  of  Isabel  Valois. 

"  A  most  important  discovery  of  new  matters  in 
the  affairs  of  this  estate,  makes  it  my  duty  to  lay 
some  startling  facts  before  your  Honor." 

There  is  a  pause.  Hardin's  heart  flutters  madly. 
He  sees  a  stony  look  gather  on  Joe  Woods'  face. 
There  is  a  peculiar  grimness  also  in  the  visage  of  the 
watchful  Peyton.  Everyone  in  the  room  is  on  the 
alert.  Crowding  to  the  front,  Hardin  is  elbowed  by 
a  man  who  seats  himself  in  a  chair  reserved  by  Judge 
Davis. 

His  eyes  are  blinded  for  a  moment.  Great  Heav 
ens  !  It  is  his  old  law-clerk.  The  wily  and  once 
hilarious  Jaggers. 

He  is  here  for  some  purpose.  That  devil  Woods' 
work. 

Hardin's  hand  clutches  a  revolver  in  his  pocket. 
He  glares  uneasily  at  Joe  Woods,  at  Peyton,  at  the 
ex-clerk.  He  breathlessly  waits  for  the  solemn 
voice  of  Davis  : 

"  We  propose,  your  Honor,  to  introduce  evidence 
that  the  late  Maxime  Valois  left  a  will.  We  pro 
pose  to  prove  that  the  estate  has  been  maladminis- 


LAGUNITAS.  473 

tered.  We  will  prove  to  your  Honor  that  a  gigan 
tic  fraud  has  been  perpetrated  during  the  minority 
of  the  child  of  Colonel  Valois.  The  most  valuable 
element  of  the  estate,  the  Lagunitas  mine,  has  been 
fraudulently  enjoyed  by  the  administrator." 

Hardin  springs  to  his  feet.  He  is  forced  into  his 
chair  by  his  counsel.  There  is  the  paleness  of  death 
on  his  face,  but  murder  lurks  in  his  heart.  Away 
with  patience  now.  A  hundred  eyes  are  gazing  in 
his  direction.  The  Judge  is  anchored,  in  amaze 
ment,  on  the  bench.  Woods  and  Peyton  are  facing 
Hardin,  with  steady  defiance. 

As  he  struggles  to  rise,  he  feels  his  blood  boiling 
like  molten  iron. 

He  has  been  trapped  by  this  devil,  Woods.  Davis 
resumes:  "I  shall  show  your  Honor,  by  the  man 
who  held  Colonel  Valois  in  his  arms  on  the  battle 
field  as  he  lay  dying,  that  a  will  was  duly  for 
warded  to  the  guardian  and  administrator,  who  con 
cealed  it.  I  will  also  prove,  your  Honor,  that 
Colonel  Valois  repeated  that  will  in  a  document 
taken  from  his  dead  body,  in  which  he  acknowl 
edged  his  marriage,  and  the  legitimacy  of  his  true 
child.  I  will  file  these  papers,  and  prove  them  by 
testimony  of  the  gallant  officer  who  buried  him,  and 
who  succeeded  to  his  regiment." 

A  deep  growl  from  Hardin  is  heard.  He  knows 
now  who  Peyton  is.  What  avenging  fiends  are  on 
his  track?  But  the  mine,  the  mine  is  safe.  Always 
the  mine.  The  deeds  will  hold.  Davis  resumes, 
his  voice  ringing  cold  and  clear: 

"  I  shall  also  prove  by  documents,  concealed  by 
the  administrator,  that  Maxime  Valois  never  parted 


474  LAGUNITAS. 

with  the  title  to  the  Lagunitas  min'e ;  that  the 
millions  have  been  stolen,  which  it  has  yielded.  I 
will  bring  in  the  evidence  of  the  clerk  who  received 
these  last  letters  from  the  absent  owner  in  the  field, 
that  they  are  genuine.  They  state  his  utter  inabil 
ity  to  sell  the  mine,  as  the  whole  property  belonged 
to  his  wife." 

There  is  a  blood-red  film  before  Hardin's  eyes 
now.  Prudence  flies  after  patience.  It  is  his 
Waterloo.  All  is  lost,  even  honor. 

"  I  venture  to  remind  your  Honor,  that  even  if  the 
daughter,  whom  I  produce  here,  is  proved  illegiti 
mate,  that  she  takes  the  whole  property,  including 
the  mine,  as  the  legal  heir  of  her  mother,  under  the 
laws  of  California."  A  murmur  is  suppressed  by 
the  clerk's  hammer. 

There  is  an  awful  silence  as  Judge  Davis  adds  : 
"  I  will  further  produce  before  your  Honor,  Armand 
Yalois,  the  only  other  heir  of  the  decedent,  to  whom 
the  succession  would  fall  by  law.  He  is  named  in 
the  will  I  will  establish,  made  twelve  hours  before 
the  writer  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Peachtree  Creek. 

"  I  am  aware,"  Judge  Davis  concludes,  "  that 
some  one  has  forged  the  titles  to  the  Lagunitas 
mine.  I  will  prove  the  forgery  to  have  been  exe 
cuted  in  the  interest  of  Philip  Hardin,  the  adminis 
trator,  whom  I  now  formally  ask  you  to  remove 
pending  this  trial,  as  a  man  false  to  his  trust.  He 
has  robbed  the  orphan  daughter  of  his  friend.  He 
deceived  the  man  who  laid  his  life  down  for  the 
cause  of  the  South,  while  he  plotted  in  the  safe  se 
curity  of  distant  California  homes.  Colonel  Valois 
was  robbed  by  his  trusted  friend." 


LAGUNITAS.  475 

A  mighty  shudder  shakes  the  crowd.  Men  gaze 
at  each  other,  wildly.  The  blinking  Judge  is  dazed 
on  the  bench  he  pollutes.  Before  any  one  can  draw 
a  breath  in  relief,  Hardin,  bending  himself  below 
the  restraining  arms,  springs  to  his  feet  and  levels  a 
pistol  full  at  Joe  Woods'  breast. 

"  You  hound  !  "  he  yells.  His  arm  is  struck  up  ; 
Raoul  Dauvray  has  edged  every  moment  nearer 
the  disgraced  millionaire.  The  explosion  of  the 
heavy  pistol  deafens  those  near.  When  the  smoke 
floats  away,  a  gaping  wound  tells  where  its  ball 
crashed  through  Hardin's  brain.  Slain  by  his  own 
hand.  Dead  and  disgraced.  The  senatorial  laurels 
never  touch  his  brow  ! 

In  five  minutes  the  court  is  cleared.  An  ad 
journment  to  the  next  day  is  forced  by  the  sudden 
tragedy.  The  wild  mob  are  thronging  the  plaza. 

Silent  in  death  lies  the  man  who  realized  at  last 
how  the  awful  voice  of  the  dead  Confederate  called 
down  the  vengeance  of  God  on  the  despoiler  of  the 
orphan. 

The  telegraph,  lightning-winged,  bears  the  news 
far  and  wide.  By  the  evening  Pere  Francois  and 
Armand  Valois  return.  In  a  few  hours  Natalie  de 
Santos  turns  backward.  The  swift  wheels  speeding 
down  the  Truckee  are  slower  than  the  electric  spark 
bearing  to  the  ex-queen  of  the  El  Dorado,  the  wife 
of  a  day,  the  news  of  her  legal  widowhood. 

Henry  Peyton  brings  back  the  traveller,  whose 
presence  is  now  absolutely  needed. 

A  lonely  grave  on  the  red  hillside  claims  the 
last  remains  of  the  dark  Chief  of  the  Golden  Circle. 
Few  stand  by  its  yawning  mouth,  to  see  the  last  of 


JAGUNITAS. 


the  man  whose  name  has  been  just  hailed  every 
where  with  wild  enthusiasm. 

Unloved,  unhonored,  unregretted,  unshriven,with 
all  his  imperfections  on  his  head,  he  waits  the  last 
trump.  Alone  in  death,  as  in  life. 

In  the  brief  and  formal  verification  of  all  these 
facts,  the  Court  finds  an  opportunity  to  at  once 
establish  the  identity  of  the  heiress  of  Lagunitas. 
For,  there  is  no  contest  now. 

In  formal  devotion  to  the  profession,  Hardin's 
lawyer  represents  the  estate  of  the  dark  schemer. 

The  legal  tangles  yield  to  final  proofs. 

There  is  a  family  party  at  Lagunitas  once  more. 
Judge  Davis  and  Peyton  guard  the  interests  of  the 
girl  who  has  only  lost  the  millions  of  Lagunitas  to 
inherit  a  fortune  from  the  father  who  scorned  to 
even  gaze  upon  her  face.  Joseph  Woods  joyfully 
guides  the  beautiful  heiress  of  the  domain,  who 
kneels  besides  the  grave  of  Dolores  Peralta,  her 
unknown  mother,  with  her  lover  by  her  side.  The 
last  of  the  Valois  stand  there,  hand  in  hand.  She 
is  Louise  Moreau  no  more. 

Pere  Francois  is  again  in  his  old  home  by  the 
little  chapel,  where  twenty  years  ago  he  raised 
his  voice  in  the  daily  supplication  for  God's  sinful 
children. 

While  Raoul  Dauvray  and  Armand  ride  in  voy 
ages  of  discovery  over  the  great  domain,  the  two 
heiresses  are  happy  with  each  other.  There  is  no 
question  between  them.  They  are  innocent  of  each 
other's  sorrows.  They  now  know  much  of  the 
shadowy  past  with  its  chequered  romance.  The 
transfer  of  all  the  mine  and  its  profits  to  the  young 


LAGUNITAS.  477 

girl,  who  finds  the  domain  in  the  hills  a  fairyland,  is 
accomplished. 

Judge  Davis  hies  himself  away  to  the  splendid 
excitement  of  his  Eastern  metropolitan  practice. 
His  "  honorarium  "  causes  him  to  have  an  added 
and  tender  feeling  for  the  all-conquering  Joe 
Woods.  Henry  Peyton  is  charged  with  the  general 
supervision  of  the  Lagunitas  estate.  He  is  aided 
by  a  mine  superintendent  selected  by  that  wary 
old  Argonaut,  Joe. 

Natalie  de  Santos  leaves  the  refuge  of  lovely 
Lagunitas  in  a  few  weeks.  There  is  a  shadow  rest 
ing  on  her  heart  which  will  never  be  lifted.  In 
vain,  beside  the  old  chapel,  seated  under  the  giant 
rose-vines,  Pere  Francois  urges  her  to  witness  the 
marriage  of  her  daughter.  Under  the  care  of  Joseph 
Woods,  she  leaves  for  San  Francisco.  Her  daugh 
ter,  who  is  soon  to  take  a  rightful  name,  learns  from 
Pere  Francois  the  agreed-on  reasons  of  her  absence. 
Natalie  will  not  make  a  dark  background  to  the 
happiness  to  come.  Silence  and  expiation  await 
her  beyond  the  surges  of  the  Atlantic. 

Joseph  Woods  and  Pere  Francois  have  buried  all 
awkward  references  to  past  history.  Irene  Dauvray 
will  never  know  the  story  of  the  lovely  "  Queen  of 
the  El  Dorado." 

There  are  no  joy  bells  at  Lagunitas  on  the  day 
when  the  old  priest  unites  Armand  and  Isabel 
Valois  in  marriage.  The  same  solemn  consecra 
tion  gives  gallant  Raoul  Dauvray,  the  woman  he 
adores.  It  is  a  sacrament  of  future  promise.  Pey 
ton  and  Joe  Woods  are  the  men  who  stand  in  place 
of  the  fathers  of  these  two  dark-eyed  brides.  It  is 


478  LAGUNITAS. 

a  solemn  and  tender  righting  of  the  old  wrongs.  A 
funeral  of  the  past — a  birth  of  a  brighter  day,  for 
all. 

The  load  of  care  and  strife  has  been  taken  from 
the  shoulders  of  the  three  elders,  who  gravely  watch 
the  four  glowing  and  enraptured  lovers. 

In  a  few  weeks,  Raoul  Dauvray  and  his  bride 
leave  for  San  Francisco.  Fittingly  they  choose 
France  for  their  home.  In  San  Francisco,  Joseph 
Woods  leads  the  young  bride  through  the  silent 
halls  of  the  old  house  on  the  hill.  The  Missourian 
gravely  bids  the  young  wife  remember  that  it  was 
here  her  feet  wandered  over  the  now  neglected 
paths. 

Joseph  Woods  convoys  the  departing  voyagers 
to  the  border  of  the  State.  The  ample  fortune 
secured  to  them,  will  engage  his  occasional  leisure 
in  advice  as  to  its  local  management. 

Natalie  de  Santos  goes  forth  with  them.  Her 
home  in  Paris  awaits  her.  The  Golden  State  knows 
her  no  more.  Her  feet  will  never  wander  back  to 
the  shores  where  her  stormy  youth  was  passed. 

A  lover's  pilgrimage  to  beloved  Paris  and  the  old 
castle  by  the  blue  waters  of  Lake  Geneva  claims 
the  Lord  and  Lady  of  Lagunitas.  For,  they  will 
return  to  dwell  in  the  mountains  of  Mariposa. 
Before  they  cross  the  broad  Atlantic,  they  have  a 
sacred  duty  to  perform.  It  is  to  visit  the  grave  of 
the  soldier  of  -the  Lost  Cause  and  lay  their  wreaths 
upon  the  turf  which  covers  his  gallant  breast. 

The  old  padre  sits  on  the  porch  of  his  house  at 
Lagunitas.  He  waits  only  for  the  last  solemn  act. 
Henry  Peyton  is  to  follow  the  travellers  East,  and 


LAGUNITAS.  479 

remove  the  soldier  of  the  gray  to  the  little  chapel 
grounds  of  Lagunitas. 

When  Padre  Francisco  has  seen  the  master  come 
home,  and  raised  his  weakening  voice  in  requiem 
over  the  friend  of  his  youth,  he  will  seek  once  more 
his  dear  Paris,  and  find  again  his  cloistered  home 
near  Notre  Dame. 

He  has,  as  a  memorial  of  mother  and  daughter, 
a  deed  of  the  old  home  of  Philip  Hardin.  It  is  given 
to  the  Church  fora  hospital.  It  is  well  so.  None 
of  the  living  ever  wish  to  pass  again  its  shadowed 
portals. 

While  waiting  the  time  for  their  departure,  the 
priest  and  Henry  Peyton  watch  the  splendid  beauties 
of  Lagunitas,  in  peaceful  brotherhood.  The  man  of 
war  and  the  servant  of  peace  are  drawn  towards 
each  other  strangely. 

The  Virginian  often  gazes  on  the  sword  of 
Maxime  Valois,  hanging  now  over  the  hearthplace 
he  left  in  his  devotion  to  the  Lost  Cause.  He  thanks 
God  that  the  children  of  the  old  blood  are  in  the 
enjoyment  of  their  birthright. 

Padre  Francisco,  telling  his  beads,  or  whiling  an 
hour  away  with  his  breviary,  begins  to  nod  easily 
as  the  lovely  summer  days  deepen  in  splendor.  He 
is  an  old  man  now,  yet  his  heart  is  touched  with 
the  knowledge  of  God's  infinite  mercy  as  he  looks 
over  the  low  wall  to  where  the  roses  bloom  around 
the  grave  of  Dolores  Valois. 

He  hopes  to  live  yet  to  know,  that  gallant  father 
and  patient  mother  will  live  over  again  in  the  happy 
faces  of  the  children  of  their  orphaned  child. 

In  the  United  States  of    America,  at    this   par- 


480  LAGUNITAS. 

ticular  juncture,  no  happier  man  than  Colonel  and 
State  Senator  Joseph  Woods  can  be  found.  His 
mines  are  unfailing  in  their  yield ;  his  bachelor 
bungalow,  in  its  splendor,  will  extinguish  certain 
ambitious  rivals,  and  he  is  freed  from  the  nightmare 
of  investigating  the  tangled  web  of  the  mysterious 
struggle  for  the  millions  of  Lagunitas.  He  is  con 
firmed  in  his  resolve  to  remain  a  bachelor. 

u  I  have  two  home  camps  now,  one  in  Paris  and 
one  in  California,  where  I  am  a  sort  of  a  brevet  father. 
I  won't  be  lonely,"  Joe  merrily  says. 

Joseph's  cheery  path  in  life  is  illuminated  by  his 
gorgeous  diamonds,  and  roped  in  with  his  massive 
watch-chains.  More  precious  than  the  gold  and 
gems  is  the  rough  and  ready  manhood  of  the  old 
Argonaut.  He  seriously  thinks  of  eschewing  the 
carrying  of  weapons,  and  abandoning  social  adven 
tures,  becoming  staid  and  serene  like  Father  Fran- 
gois. 

He  often  consoles  himself  in  his  loneliness  by  the 
thought  that  Henry  Peyton  is  also  a  man  without 
family.  "  I  will  capture  Peyton  when  he  gets  the 
young  people  in  good  shape,  and  they  are  tired  of 
Paris  style,"  Joe  muses.  "  He's  a  man  and  a  brother, 
and  we  will  spend  our  old  days  in  peace  together." 

One  haunting,  sad  regret  touches  Colonel  Joe's 
heart.  He  learns  of  the  intention  of  Natalie  to  spend 
her  days  in  retirement  and  in  helping  others. 

Thinking  of  her  splendid  beauty,  her  daring 
struggle  for  her  friendless  child's  rights,  and  all  that 
is  good  of  the  only  woman  he  ever  could  have 
desperately  loved,  he  guards  her  secret  in  his  breast. 
He  dare  not  confess  to  his  own  heart  that  if  there 


LAGUNITAS.  481 

had  been  an  honorable  way,  he  would  fain  have  laid 
his  fortune  at  the  feet  of  the  peerless  "  Queen  of  the 
El  Dorado." 

Francois  Ribaut,  walking  the  deck  of  the  steamer, 
gazes  on  the  great  white  stars  above  him.  The  old 
man  is  peaceful,  and  calmly  thankful.  The  night 
breezes  moan  over  the  lonely  Atlantic !  As  the 
steamer  bravely  dashes  the  spray  aside,  his  heart 
bounds  with  a  new  happiness.  Every  hour  brings 
the  beloved  France  nearer  to  him.  Looking  back 
at  the  life  and  land  he  leaves  behind  him,  the  old 
priest  marvels  at  the  utter  uselessness  of  Philip 
Hardin's  life.  Apples  of  Sodom  were  all  his  treas 
ures.  His  wasted  gifts,  his  dark  schemes,  his  sly 
plans,  all  gone  for  naught.  Blindly  driven  along  in 
the  darkness  of  evil,  his  own  hand  pulled  down  his 
palace  of  sin  on  his  head.  And  even  "  French 
Charlie"  was  avenged  by  the  murderer's  self-ex 
ecuted  sentence.  "Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the 
Lord ;  I  will  repay."  The  innocent  and  helpless 
have  wandered  past  each  dark  pitfall  dug  by  the 
wily  Hardin,  and  enjoy  their  own.  Pere  Frangois, 
with  his  eyes  cast  backward  on  his  own  life  path, 
feels  that  he  has  not  fought  the  good  fight  in  vain. 
His  gentle  heart  throbs  in  sympathy,  filled  with  an 
infinite  compassion  for  the  lonely  Natalie  de  Santos. 
Sinned  against  and  sinning.  A  free  lance,  with  only 
her  love  for  her  child  to  hallow  and  redeem  her. 
Her  own  plans,  founded  in  guile,  have  all  miscarried. 
Blood  stains  the  gold  bestowed  on  her  by  Philip 
Hardin's  death.  Her  life  has  been  a  stormy  sea. 
Yet,  to  her  innocent  child,  a  name  and  fortune  have 
been  given  by  the  hand  of  Providence.  In  turning 
31 


482  LAGUNITAS. 

away  her  face  from  the  vain  and  glittering  world 
she  has  adornecj,  the  chase  and  plaything  of  men, 
one  pure  white  flower  will  bloom  from  the  red  ashes 
of  her  dead  life.  The  unshaken  affection  of  the 
child  for  whom  she  struggled,  who  can  always,  in 
ignorance  of  the  dark  past,  lift  happy  eyes  to  hers 
and  call  her  in  love,  by  the  holy  name  of  mother. 
With  bowed  head  and  thankful  heart,  Padre  Fran 
cisco's  thoughts  linger  around  beautiful  Lagunitas. 
Its  groves  and  forest  arches,  its  mirrored  lake,  its 
smiling  beauties  and  fruitful  fields,  return  to  him. 
The  old  priest  murmurs:  "God  made  Lagunitas; 
but  man  made  California  what  it  has  been." 

A  land  of  wild  adventure,  of  unrighted  wrongs. 
A  land  of  sad  histories,  of  many  shattered  hopes. 
Fierce  \vaves  of  adventurers  swept  away  the  simple 
early  folk.  Lawless  license,  flaunting  vice,  and 
social  disorganization  made  its  early  life  as  a  State, 
one  mad  chaos. 

The  Indians  have  perished,  rudely  despoiled. 
The  old  Dons  have  faded  into  the  gray  mists  of  a 
dead  past.  The  early  Argonauts  have  lived  out  the 
fierce  fever  of  their  wild  lives.  To  the  old  individual 
freebooters,  a  new  order  of  great  corporate  monopo 
lies  and  gigantic  rough-hewn  millionaires  succeeds. 
There  is  always  some  hand  on  the  people's  throat 
in  California.  Yet  the  star  of  hope  glitters. 

Slowly,  through  all  the  foamy  restless  waves  of 
transient  adventurers  the  work  of  the  homebuilders 
is  showing  the  dry  land  decked  with  the  olive 
branches  of  peace. 

The  native  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Golden 
West,  bright,  strong,  self-reliant  and  full  of  promise, 


LAGUNITAS. 


483 


are  the  glittering-eyed  young  guardians  of  the 
Golden  Gate.  Born  of  the  soil,  with  life's  battle  to 
fight  on  their  native  hills,  may  they  build  around 
the  slopes  of  the  Pacific,  a  State  great  in  its  hearths 
and  homes.  The  future  shines  out.  The  gloomy 
past  recedes.  The  sunlight  of  freedom  sparkles  on 
the  dreamy  lake  of  Lagunitas  ! 


MY  OFFICIAL  WIFE 

BY 

RICHARD  HENRY  SAVAGE, 

A^tthor  of  "  The  Little  Lady  of  Lagunitas,"  etc.,  etc. 

For  Sale  Everywhere  !     Shortly  to  be  Dramatized  8 
The  American  Success  of  the  Season! 

The  Voice  of  the  Press. 

"A  vivid  and  stirring  story." 


Abundance  of  Action.     Very  cleverly  written." 

—SAN  FRANCISCO  CHRONICLE,  June  21,  1891. 


— NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE,  August  2,  1891. 

lev 

N  F 

"  Something  thoroughly  stirring." 

—OMAHA  BEE,  June  27th,  1891. 

"The  denouement  is  intensely  dramatic." 

— BOSTON  ADVERTISER,  July  sd,  1891. 

"A  striking  story." 

— PORTLAND  OREGONIAN,  May  sist,  1891. 

"Something  extraordinary.     'Worth  reading." 

— LOUISVILLE  COMMERCIAL,  July  6th,  1891. 

"  Full  of  life  and  go  and  very  entertaining." 

—  CHICAGO  TIMES,  June  2oth,  1891. 

51  Events  and  situations  increasing  in  excitement.     The  reader  will 
dash  through  with  wild  eagerness." 

— NEW  YORK  HERALD,  June  2ist,  1891. 

"  A  very  exciting  web  of  complications." 

— NEW  ORLEANS  PICAYUNE,  July  i2th,  1891. 

"A  story  of  absorbing  interest." 

— CLEVELAND  PLAINDEALER,  June  i4th,  1891. 

"Occupies  the  close  attention  of  the  reader." 

— SAN  FRANCISCO  CALL,  June  2ist,  1891. 

"Amusing  and  exciting." 

— TOWN  TOPICS,  Nov.  i2th,  1891. 

"Overflowing  with  human  interest  and  intensely  dramatic." 

— NEW  YORK  HOME  JOURNAL,  Dec.  i6th,  1891. 

"Decidedly  original.      The    making  of    a  very  effective    play.     In 
genious  and  daring  in  conception." 

— NEW  YORK  WORLD,  Aug.  2d,  1891. 

"The  story  is  racy  and  will  be  a  favorite  at  the  clubs." 

— SAN  FRANCISCO  EVENING  POST,  June  27th,  1891. 

"  Abundance  of  action.     Extremely  interesting." 

— SAN  FRANCISCO  NEWSDEALER,  August  ist,  1891. 

"The  novel  is  of  unusual    interest." 

—NEW  YORK  JOURNAL,  June  28th,  1891. 

"A  story  of  great  power  and  originality." 

-  MINNEAPOLIS  COMMERCIAL  BULLETIN,  Oct.  24th,  1891. 


ORIGINAL!    BRILLIANT!    SUCCESSFUL! 


MY  OFFICIAL  WIFE 

BY 

Colonel  RICHARD  HENRY  SAVAGE, 

Author   of   "The    TAttle    Lady    of  Lagunitas,"  etc. 


Publishers  in  Europe. 

George  Routledge  &  Sons,     .  London      .    (English  Edition) 

Bernhard  Tauchitz,     ....  Leipzig    (Continental  Edition) 

J.   Engelhorn, Stuttgart (GermanTranslation) 

Messrs.  Hachette, Paris     .     (French  Translation) 


Foreign  Reviewers'  Remarks. 

Welcomed  from   Japan   and   India,  to   Berlin  ! 

"There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  this  book." 

— TIMES  OF  INDIA,  Bombay,  Feb.  2oth,  1892. 
"Can  not  fail  to  make  a  mark." 

— NEWS  OF  THE  WORLD,  London,  Jan.  24th,  1892. 

"Very  exciting." 

— SCOTTISH  LEADER,  Edinburgh,  July  gth,  1891. 

"A  wonderfully  clever  '  tour  de  force.'" 

— LONDON  TIMES,  Aug.  loth,  1891. 

"  No  recent  story  surpasses  it." 

— YORKSHIRE  POST,  July  8th,  1891. 

"As  bright  as  the  best  French  comedy." 

— BERLIN  POST,  Germany,  Nov.  26th,  1891. 
"The    vivacity,    movement-  and    style     deserve    warm 
Praise<"  —LONDON  DAILY  NEWS,  Dec.  25th,  1891. 

"A  well  conceived  sensational  story." 

— LONDON  SPECTATOR,  Sept.  I2th,  1891. 

"  This  story  would  dramatize  well." 

— BRADFORD  OBSERVER,  Oct.  1st,  1891. 

"  One  of  the  '  livest '  and  most  entertaining  novels  we 
have  read  for  many  a  day." 

— LEEDS  MERCURY,  Sept.  gth,  1891. 

"Told  with  delightful  spirit." 

— THE  SCOTSMAN,  Edinburgh,  July  6th,  1891. 


SOLD     BY 

THE  HOME  PUBLISHING  CO.,  3  East  14th  St.,  New  York  City. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $I.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


Ml  79  1936 


AUG  22  1947 


LD  21-100m-8,'34 


